<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>East of the Sun and West of the Moon by tinymacaroni</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23385445">East of the Sun and West of the Moon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinymacaroni/pseuds/tinymacaroni'>tinymacaroni</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Can I tag angst twice, Canon-Typical Violence, Fairy Tale Curses, Fighting, Folktale AU, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Whump, Insecure Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Isolation, Jaskier | Dandelion Has ADHD, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Loneliness, M/M, Making Up, Norwegian Mythology &amp; Folklore, Sharing a Bed, Sort Of, they're both just sad and lonely and they Bond ok</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:14:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,550</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23385445</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinymacaroni/pseuds/tinymacaroni</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaskier is taken from his home by a mysterious white wolf, and has to learn how to live with his strange new roommate</p><p>Or - an East of the Sun, West of the Moon AU that pulls heavily from Edith Pattou's retelling, East</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia &amp; Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>77</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>192</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Geraskier</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Julian Alfred Pankratz was born on the first day of spring at the end of a cruel and unforgiving winter, the youngest of Anita and Kacper Pankratz’s five children, and his birth was nothing short of a miracle. His mother was bedridden and ill for most of her pregnancy, and Julian was born small and weak, but he had the strongest lungs the midwife swore she ever heard and he put them to good use from the moment he came into the world. He was a precocious child, beginning to crawl and then walk and then run, to speak and then read and then write, faster than anyone expected, and it fell to his siblings to keep him out of trouble as his parents worked the farm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The eldest, Aleksander, was 14 when Julian was born and was leaving for university in a few short years. He would read aloud to Julian and talk him through sums and tell him about historical battles and explorations, and he was the one who gave Julian the nickname “Jaskier,” by which the whole village came to know him, for the small yellow blooms that began to poke through the snow the day he was born. Katarzyna, the second-eldest, was 11 when he was born and taught him how to sew and how to cook, as well as how to read music and to play and sing, which quickly became his favorite pastime. Natalia and Aurelia, the middle twins, were 8 when he was born, and they loved to play pretend with him and teach him about all the plants and animals around the farm. They introduced him to the cat and the goats and the chickens, showed him the spiders and the moths hidden in the corners of their house, and taught him the different kinds of trees and flowers that grew in the yard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time he was 3, Jaskier was speaking in full sentences and able to read simple books. He would trail along behind his siblings as they did their chores, and would often fall asleep in strange nooks and crannies as he explored the house. Once, the first night of a visit home from Oxenfurt, his brother found him asleep in front of the door, where he had been waiting for Aleksander’s arrival. He had picked the toddler up gently with the intent to put him to bed on his cot in their parents’ room, but Jaskier woke and started crying, insisting that he be allowed to sleep with Aleksander. The older boy had rolled his eyes, but gave in and carried him to the room he and Katarzyna shared, unable to resist his baby brother’s bright, sad eyes. Aleksander whispered an apology to Katarzyna when she stirred as he entered the room and she gave him a knowing smile and shook her head as she saw the toddler in his arms - really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>none</span>
  </em>
  <span> of them were ever able to tell Jaskier “no.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time he was 7 he was exploring the woods on his own and kept a journal where he wrote about what he found there, as well as scraps of songs and stories he thought of and recipes his sisters taught him. He wrote often about a great white wolf, which he insisted he saw in the woods more than once, despite Aleksander and Katarzyna both telling him that the only wolves in the woods were grey, and that they stayed away from humans as much as they could, and despite Natalia joining him on his explorations and never seeing so much as a single white hair. Still, he would dream of yellow eyes set into thick white fur and wake up shivering, no matter the temperature.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he was 9, and Natalia and Aurelia were both making preparations to move out of the house, he began to learn how to do farm work - milking the goats, collecting eggs from the chickens, planting and harvesting vegetables, and tending to all the animals and crops. His explorations in the woods grew fewer and farther between, and he stopped seeing the white wolf anywhere but his dreams, and even those encounters grew less frequent, until they too ceased altogether. He never forgot the wolf, not entirely, but as he grew older it faded into a memory of a memory, the imaginings of a child and nothing more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time he was 15 he had taken over nearly all the work on the farm. His parents were aging, his mother’s joints swelling and her hands cramping easily, his father’s bones creaking and his eyes dulling, so he picked up not only the heavier outdoor work but the smaller things as well, the cooking and the mending, cleaning and managing the family’s finances. His siblings came to help when they could, but Aleksander had moved permanently to the larger city and Aurelia was at university, and Katarzyna and Natalia both had families of their own to tend to. Jaskier and his parents agreed to downsize the farm, selling all but one goat and two chickens, so it would be easier for him to manage on his own. The village was too small to have a market proper, but he managed trade with his neighbors for things like wool and cloth, soap and candles and oil, and whenever Aleksander or Aurelia came to visit they brought home things they had gotten at the city’s market.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he managed more and more of the farm, he also ventured out into the village more often. As a child, he had never been close with any of the other children, preferring to explore the forests alone or spend time with his siblings, and as an adolescent those habits hadn’t changed. Now, though, as he spoke with his neighbors more, he began to notice people staring at him, speaking in hushed tones and glancing at him nervously. “Changeling,” he heard sometimes - “fae child,” “elf-touched,” and even occasionally, “cursed.” He asked his parents about it, once, but they told him to pay it no mind, that people simply liked to gossip and there was no truth to the words. He could sense there was more they weren’t telling him, but he didn’t press, and instead did his best to put it out of his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The winter before his 21st birthday was a harsh and long one, the worst the village had seen since the year he was born, and he was working himself to the bone trying to make ends meet. He would go for long treks through the forest in search of wood to burn and anything remotely edible, digging starchy roots out of the frozen ground and collecting fallen twigs and branches, hoping they would become dry enough to burn before they ran out of what dry wood they had at home. His parents did their best to help, but the cold and damp was hard on them both, and they spent more time in their bed than out of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The morning of his birthday, he woke with a pang of hunger, his empty stomach cramping with need. He took a deep breath, waiting it through, then rose and began to work on his morning chores - stoking the fire, tending to the animals. He brought a copper kettle outside and filled it with snow, hanging it above the meager fire and scooping a few spoonfuls of dried grain and a bit of salt into it to make a thin porridge. Once it was hot enough, he poured it into three bowls, setting them on a tray with three spoons and carrying it to his parents’ room. He handed them each a bowl and a spoon and sat on a chair beside the bed, making sure they had both begun to eat before he himself tucked in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” his mother said with a tired smile, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Mama,” he smiled back. His father wished him a happy birthday as well, and he nodded his thanks before urging them to both finish their meals. “I know it isn’t much, but you need your strength,” he pushed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Julek,” his father said, reaching past his mum to ruffle his hair. “We know how hard you’ve been working to keep us going, and we appreciate it immensely.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In fact…” his mum said, reaching for the nightstand drawer and pulling out a medium sized package, wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. “We wanted to give you this, to show our appreciation.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier untied the twine and carefully peeled away the brown paper, revealing a swathe of deep blue cloth. He unfolded it, jaw dropping slightly as he felt how soft and thick the fabric was, and he held it up to see the full thing - a cloak, beautifully crafted, lined with grey and fastened with a silver clasp shaped like a wolf’s head. “Oh, mum, dad, it’s...it’s incredible, where did you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>get</span>
  </em>
  <span> something like this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alek and Relka bought the cloth in the city, and we had Mrs. Wiśniewski sew it for us in trade for some of your father’s old wood carvings.” Jaskier surged forward, pulling them both into a tight hug, and felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s beautiful. Thank you so, so much.” He stood and wrapped the cloak proudly around his shoulders, wiping his eyes with the heel of his palm. “I have to go find more wood for the fire, but I’ll be back soon, alright?” He kissed each parent on soft, wrinkled cheeks before leaving, grabbing a basket on his way out the door and glancing nervously at the pitiful stock of remaining burnable wood. He sighed, turning and heading for the forest, hoping he could find at least a few logs he could split and let dry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He picked his way carefully through the trees, wary of tree roots and holes hidden by the blanket of snow. He gathered up every bit of wood he could find, planning to sort through what would and would not be burnable back at home, and managed to find a few decently-sized pieces, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being </span>
  <em>
    <span>watched</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was preposterous, he knew - no one else ventured this deep into the woods, particularly not in winter, and if someone were here he’d have seen or at least heard them, but the prickling feeling at the back of his neck remained. He shivered, telling himself it was from the cold, and decided he’d collected enough wood, it was time to go home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On his way back, he could have sworn he caught a glimpse of round yellow eyes and thick, white fur.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier returned home to find his family waiting for him - his parents of course, and all his siblings, nieces, and nephews, gathered in the living room, chatting and drinking. They all turned when he opened the door, and he dropped the basket on the floor, rushing in to hug as many family members as he could fit into his arms. The little ones clambered up his back and around his legs as he greeted his siblings and he sat down by the hearth, holding his niece Cecylia in his arms while his other niece Antonina and his nephews, Emil and Jozef, gathered in his lap. He grinned, bouncing the baby in his arms and kissing her forehead. “Hello, little Cesia, my little darling dearest,” he cooed quietly, lifting his head to talk to the other children as they grabbed jealously for his attention. “Emi, Jozek, Antosia - how are you all doing tonight?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good!” the children shouted in unison. Jozef climbed higher in his lap, trying to get a better look at his baby sister and tugging at Jaskier’s arms to do so. Jaskier lowered the infant to his lap, letting all the children coo and gush over her as they loved to do, but keeping a cautious eye on them all - small children were not known for their gentleness, and he didn’t want any of them to accidentally injure her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, Jas, how have things been?” Aleksander asked, touching his shoulder gently to get his attention.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you know. Difficult, of course, but we’re getting through. How about you, how’s the big city? Do you and Relka see each other often, or is she too busy with her classes?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I see him more often than I would like to,” Aurelia interjected, pulling a face. “He likes to check up on me and make sure I’m doing okay, but he does it almost every day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just worry!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We know, Alek,” Katazryna said, bumping him lightly with her fist. “You’ve always been a worrywart.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh like you’re one to talk!” Jaskier threw in. “You, Kaska, are the biggest worrier I have ever met - you worried yourself </span>
  <em>
    <span>sick</span>
  </em>
  <span> over Alek when he left for Oxenfurt, I was hardly three years old and I remember it, and you did the same thing when Relka left! And don’t get me started on Nati’s pregnancy-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well sorry for loving my siblings!” Katarzyna interrupted, throwing her arms up in exasperation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We know it’s because you love us,” Natalia said gently. “But Jas has a point, you shouldn’t tease Alek for something you do constantly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pah, he’s my brother, I’ll tease him about whatever I want.” Katarzyna flashed a grin towards Aleksander, which was returned in kind. “Anyway, let’s focus back on the birthday boy - do you have any plans, Jas? Anywhere you want to travel, anything you want to do? You’re a full-fledged adult now, where do you want to spread your wings?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier shrugged. “I’m honestly probably just going to stay here. Maybe one day I’ll travel around, perform as a minstrel perhaps, but for now I’m content to run the farm and babysit the best kids in the whole world.” He hugged the children in his lap close with this last bit, kissing each of them on the tops of their heads.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really? You’re fine with just...staying here?” Aurelia asked skeptically.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jaskier, darling, if this is because of us, don’t worry,” his mother chimed in. “We can always ask our neighbors for help with the farm, please don’t hold yourself back on our accounts.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I really am happy here Mum, I promise." He handed Cecylia back to Natalia, gently coaxing the other children off his lap so he could stand and retrieve his basket, laying the wood on the hearth to dry. His parents and siblings exchanged glances behind his back - he had always loved the idea of adventure, and they all knew he wouldn't be content here long, if he even was now, but they also all knew it was his choice to make. They wanted him to be happy, but he was an adult and they had to let him make his own decisions about his life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The silent conversation was interrupted by a sharp rap at the door. Kacper stood, joints groaning with the effort, and shuffled over to the door. "Yes, what can we- oh. Oh no." The siblings peered around the door to see what had frozen their father in his tracks, and they all paled. On their doorstep stood a massive wolf with thick, shaggy white fur and deep yellow eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I have come for the boy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, they all heard, though the wolf's mouth did not move.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No!" Anita shouted fearfully, grabbing Jaskier into her arms and holding him with strength she didn't know she still had. "You can't, you won't take him, I won't let you!" Kacper sighed, giving his wife a sad, defeated look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nati, take the children to bed. They should not be here for this." Natalia nodded, standing with Cecylia still in her arms and ushering the other children out of the room. The other three siblings looked at their father with mingled confusion and horror as he turned back to the wolf, addressing it. "Please, just...give us one more night with him. Please."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wolf seemed to think for a moment, then they all heard that deep, rumbling voice again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Very well. You have until sunrise, but remember - a promise made must be kept.</span>
  </em>
  <span> With that, the wolf turned and loped away from the house, and Kacper closed the door with a shaking hand. As soon as the door was shut, the room exploded with talk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> that?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Why is it here, who did it mean? Is it asking for Jaskier?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What does it want with him? Papa, what's going on?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hush, children," their father said wearily as he sunk back into his chair. "Dear, let the boy go. No harm will come to him now." Anita reluctantly loosened her tight grip on Jaskier's arms, but she still held him to her chest, and Kacper sighed, deciding to let it go for now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"They </span>
  <em>
    <span>won't</span>
  </em>
  <span> take him," she repeated. "I won't give him up."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We must," he said simply. Jaskier looked up at him, hurt and confused. "Julek...Julian. Your mother and I have...not been completely honest with you, about how you came to be."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Kacper.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Anita sounded dangerous, a low warning note in her voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, he deserves to know. We must tell him." He turned his gaze back to Jaskier, looking thoroughly exhausted. "Before you were born, your mother grew gravely ill. We called a doctor in from the city, and while he assured us she would be alright, he said that </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> were dying." He sighed, looking all his years and more as he ran a hand through his sparse grey hair. "We...your mother and I, we couldn't bear the thought of losing you. Not after she had fought so hard to take care of you and herself both. So we went deep into the woods, deeper than most dare to go, and we prayed and we pleaded and we bargained. Someone listened, and you were born a healthy little thing. But we were told, before we left the forest, that there would be a price - we would have you as a child, but once grown, you would have to leave here. We knew...we knew it was not, truly, our promise to make. It was your life, after all, not ours. But we were desperate, and we agreed. Julek, I'm- I'm so sorry." The old man bowed his head, sobbing softly. "I'm so sorry."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier pried himself gently from his mother's grasp, kneeling before his father and taking his frail, wrinkled hands between his own. "Thank you, Papa. You gave me a chance to live, and I owe you so much." He kissed his father's damp cheek, his own tears flowing now too. He turned towards his mother, standing and wrapping his strong arms around her. "Mama, I have to go. You know that. But I love you, I love you so much and I'm so grateful for everything you and Papa have done for me, for all of us." She sobbed in his arms, clutching him tight, and he held her there in silence for a long moment before gently letting her go. "I...suppose I should pack my things, then, and if you all will grant me the favor of staying up with me until the sun rises?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Jas…" Katarzyna murmured, shaking her head. "Go, pack. We'll stay up with you, of course we will." She stood as well, going to fetch Natalia as Jaskier went to the other room, the bedroom he had gotten to himself after everyone else had moved out. He pulled his pack down from a hook on the wall, carefully folding his clothes and piling them into the bottom of it, then looking around at what else he owned, deciding what he would take. He picked a couple of his favorite books, pages well-worn from hours upon hours of him thumbing through them. He took his journals, as well - both the old one he had filled out as a child and the new one he had received for his birthday last year - and some pencils and pens and ink. He added a small box of trinkets he had collected over the years, and lastly a toy his mother had sewn for him as a boy: a white wolf, grey now from age, based on the ones he always claimed to see in the woods as a child. He laughed a little, realizing the wolf had probably been real this whole time. He closed the bag and picked up his lute, a gift from his siblings that Katarzyna had taught him to play, and placed it carefully in its case, strapping the case to his pack. "Well," he said to the empty room. "I guess that's that." He shouldered the pack, going back out into the living room and setting his things by the door. Natalia had come back out and the others were catching her up. She turned when he entered the room, throwing her arms around him tightly and crying into his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't go, Jas, please. The children will miss you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>we'll</span>
  </em>
  <span> miss you, and who will tend the farm? Who will take care of Mama and Papa?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We can sell the farm," Kacper interrupted, "And move to a smaller house closer to the rest of the village, where we can rely more on our neighbors. We'll be okay, Nati." Anita sat beside him, saying nothing, merely staring at Jaskier and Natalia with empty eyes. Jaskier could feel his heart break as he looked at his parents, once so strong, now looking worn down and defeated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, Mama," he said as he sat on his mother's other side, wrapping an arm around her. "But the wolf is right - you made a promise, and I must keep that promise." He kissed her temple, resting his forehead against the side of her head. "I'll be alright." She broke into sobs then, loud and open, clutching her son to her breast.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Please don't go, darling, please."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I have to." He hugged her close, rubbing a hand consolingly up and down her back as she had so often done for him. The room was silent for a while, aside from his mother's hiccuping sobs, until Aleksander held up his glass of the wine he and Aurelia had brought with them from the city.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"To our baby brother, the brightest soul in the village, nay, the country." They all toasted, and Jaskier flushed red under their attention. They took turns telling stories long into the night, stories about Jaskier, folktales and historical accounts he had loved most as a child, stories about their own lives that he might remember them by when he got homesick. They all cried, and laughed, and drank, and when the sun came up they were still awake, sitting a living vigil.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The knock at the door came again, and Jaskier stood to open the door, unsurprised to see the wolf waiting patiently. "Let me say my goodbyes, and then I will leave with you." The wolf blinked slowly, but did not otherwise move, and Jaskier took this as assent. He went first to the room where the little ones slept, kissing each of their foreheads and whispering soft goodbyes - when they woke, their parents would tell them that Uncle Jaskier had to leave for a while, but he loved them very much and he would be back when he could. Then he went back to the living room, hugging each of his family members as tight as he could, tears in his eyes and spilling down his cheeks. When at last he had said all he could think to say, he wrapped his new cloak around his shoulders and picked up his pack, casting one last glance behind him before stepping out into the cold.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Get on my back</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he heard and obeyed, slinging a leg up over the wolf and threading his fingers through its coarse, warm fur, clinging tightly as it began to run. He never stopped crying, heart aching at the realization he may never see his family again, and between his tears and the wolf's speed he couldn't see much of the landscape they passed through, but there wasn't much to see. It was white and snowy like the rest of the region, and he could at least tell they were headed north, so he doubted it would get any less so. They ran like that for what must have been hours, and after staying up all night and crying his heart out Jaskier was exhausted. The wolf's pawsteps were steady and even despite their speed, and its back was warm and broad beneath Jaskier, and eventually sleep took him, and he dreamed, mercifully, of nothing.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Jaskier woke, there was a brief moment when he thought the whole ordeal had simply been a bad dream, that he would open his eyes and see his bedroom again, hear his siblings shuffling around in the living room after staying the night. Unfortunately, as he came to, he realized he could feel fur in his hands, and as he opened his eyes and saw his stark, snow-blanketed and empty surroundings, he knew it had been no dream.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Get off,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he heard the wolf say, though as always its mouth never moved. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This part is on foot.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jaskier slid carefully off its back, looking around. The only interruption of the endless snow lay immediately before them: a tall, craggy mountain, all sheer cliff faces and snowbanks that looked like they could fall at any second, trapping any animals who happened to be passing by. The wolf walked steadily toward the mountain, not looking back to see if Jaskier was following - there was, after all, nowhere else he could go. So follow he did, his heart beating rapidly in his chest, the cold wind seeping through his cloak and clothing to chill his skin. As they neared the mountain, Jaskier saw what he had missed before: there was a small tunnel opening near the base of one of the cliff faces. He saw now why this leg of the journey would be on foot; the tunnel was scarcely tall enough for the wolf, and Jaskier would have lost his head had he tried to ride the creature into it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wolf paused at the entrance to the tunnel, taking a moment now to glance back and make sure Jaskier had kept pace. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Keep your hand on my side. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jaskier nodded, burying one hand in the thick fur and holding, careful not to tug at its coat. The wolf bowed its head briefly in something akin to a nod, and set off slowly into the tunnel, Jaskier at his side. It quickly became apparent why the wolf had told him to hold on: the tunnel was pitch black, not a pinprick of light to be seen once the light behind them faded, and Jaskier couldn’t even see his own hand in front of his face. It was disorienting, to say the least, not being able to see where he was going. Once, he tripped and fell, briefly letting go of the wolf’s fur as he reached out to catch himself. That was the worst moment, losing not only his sight but the only thing keeping him grounded in the complete darkness. The wolf quickly found him, nosing at his chest almost as if it were making sure he was okay, then waited patiently as Jaskier regained his grip in its fur. The rest of the trek was uneventful - the wolf did not seem keen on making conversation, and while Jaskier was usually the kind of person who filled silences with ease, he was too exhausted to even think of what he might say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, the tunnel began to widen, and a faint trickle of light poured in from somewhere up ahead. As they drew nearer to the end of the tunnel, Jaskier realized the light was flickering warmly, and the thought of a fire after the long and cold journey almost made him forget his sadness. Almost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tunnel opened up into a large foyer, a common enough sight, but something about it prickled the hair at the back of Jaskier’s neck. He looked around and realized what it was - there were no windows. </span>
  <em>
    <span>We must still be underground</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>still inside the mountain</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He shivered, a wave of claustrophobia washing over him despite the room itself actually being quite large and roomy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He let go of the wolf’s fur, no longer needing the guidance, but felt a strange pang of loss when he did. He hardly felt it, so full of loss as he was already, but the tiny twinge tugged at his heart and he shook his head, hoping he could clear the feeling away as a dog shakes water from its coat. The wolf gave him what could almost be described as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bemused</span>
  </em>
  <span> look, which was a strange expression to see on a wolf, before turning and walking towards a hallway off to the left, moving in a way that Jaskier was quickly learning meant “follow me.” The hallway was wide and welcoming, lit by globe-shaped lamps of frosted glass which cast a warm glow over the wooden walls and the deep red carpeting. It would almost be pleasant, Jaskier mused, if it didn’t feel quite so much like he was being led into a prison to wait out the rest of his days.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wolf stopped in front of a solid-looking wooden door, pushing it open gently with his muzzle and slipping through the opening. Jaskier followed, as always, and found himself in a cozy-looking bedroom. There was a four poster bed, a wardrobe and a dresser, and most appealingly, a fire crackling in a hearth with a tub of hot water steaming before it. He wanted to talk to the wolf, learn more about what was going on here, but he was chilled to his bones and stiff from the ride here, and his sleep on the wolf’s back had not been terribly restful. The wolf seemed to sense his exhaustion, turning and leaving so he could bathe and sleep in peace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier stripped quickly, hanging his cloak carefully from one of the posts on the bed, but dumping the rest of his discarded clothes on the floor to be dealt with later. He sank into the bathwater with a groan, the hot water easing some of the tightness from his aching muscles, chasing the stiffness from his body. He reached for a small bottle of soap, tipping some into his hands and working it into a lather to rid himself of the layer of grime that had built up since his last proper bath. The soap smelled of wildflowers and chamomile and he soon found himself dozing off, at which point he decided he should probably be done with his bath. He stood and dried himself with a towel he found folded beside the tub, and donned a soft robe that was hanging beside the fire, leaving it warm against his skin. He climbed into the large bed and quickly fell into what was once again a dreamless sleep, exhaustion overtaking his mind as well as his body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he awoke, he found a neat stack of clean clothing on a chair and a tray on a table containing a hot bowl of porridge with cinnamon, a rasher of bacon, some bread and a slab of butter, fresh fruit, and a mug of hot tea. He wasn't sure who put all of this here, nor how they knew his favorite foods, but his stomach lurched and he decided questions could wait. He ate quickly, instinct taking over and telling him to eat as much as he could now, in case there wasn't more later. When he was finished, he set the tray of dishes aside and stood, dressing in the new clothes - underclothes, of course, a pair of light blue trousers with an intricately embroidered doublet to match, and simple dark brown boots. The doublet was a little tight around his shoulders, and he opted to leave it unbuttoned. He knew it wasn't "proper," but neither was kidnapping someone on their birthday and keeping them prisoner, no matter how nice the prison, so if the wolf somehow objected it could fuck right off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After lacing the boots up, he ventured out of the bedroom and down the hall, trying hard to keep track of where he was and not get lost. He found his way to the foyer they had entered the night before, and Jaskier realized two things: first, he had no clue what time or even what</span>
  <em>
    <span> day</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was, nor how long he had slept; second, the wolf was not here, and he had no idea where it was, nor how to find it. He wasn't exactly feeling friendly towards the beast, but the idea of being alone in this massive and unfamiliar place made a chill run down his back and his heart began  to race.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hello?" he called meekly to the empty room. His own voice echoed back to him softly but no other response came. He sighed, and decided he may as well explore his new home, or prison, or whatever this place was. He chose to start with the hallway the bedroom was in, to reduce the chance of getting lost. There were only a few doors in this hall, but it was a start. The first two doors he opened were boring - a study and another bedroom, nearly identical to his - but the third was encouraging: a music room, with several instruments and books and pages of sheet music strewn about. He slipped quietly through the door, reverently tracing his fingertips over some of the instruments, and smiled. He sat down at the piano and began rifling through some sheets of music; he played best on his lute, but if he had all these options he was going to take advantage of them. He chose a familiar piece, an old song about a sailor and his lost love, and ran his fingers over the dusty keys before beginning to play.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tune was familiar, though at first he did have to put some thought into where his fingers landed. Eventually he got used to the pattern and the keys, though, and his mind began to stray, threading through old memories and blending them into one simple thought: </span>
  <em>
    <span>home</span>
  </em>
  <span>. When he was finished with the song, he was startled, though not exactly surprised, to see the wolf laying in front of the hearth, head drowsing atop crossed paws, looking expectantly up at him with its yellow eyes, which had turned a deep amber in the firelight. Jaskier scowled, his delight at finding the music room now thoroughly spoiled, and addressed the wolf. "Where did you get off to?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Out,</span>
  </em>
  <span> came the response, and Jaskier snorted derisively.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well isn't that just bloody fantastic for you then, getting to go out and about. May I assume, then, that "out" is somewhere only you have the privilege of going?" The wolf blinked and dipped its head in a brief nod. "Of course. I don't suppose you can tell me </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> I'm stuck in this underground castle for the foreseeable future, at least? I mean I know the story with my parents and the promise, blah blah, but...what's the </span>
  <em>
    <span>point</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Why not just kill me and have it done with?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wolf seemed to consider this question for a moment, cocking its head to the side and looking strangely thoughtful. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Company</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it said at last.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Care to elaborate on that?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Can't.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The wolf grimaced, again an odd look for a wolf, but not out of place on its white muzzle. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hard to...find words. Some days, worse than others.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It dropped its head to its paws again, shutting its eyes, as if just saying that much at once had exhausted it. Jaskier huffed in annoyance, but he determined that even if the wolf were lying for some reason, it wouldn't help to antagonize the damned thing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alright, one last question then: you're not really a wolf, are you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wolf opened its eyes lazily to peer up at Jaskier, then closed them again with a sigh. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Human. Cursed.</span>
  </em>
  <span> That seemed to be all it planned - all </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> planned - to say on the subject, and Jaskier nodded, satisfied for now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, I'm going to keep playing. You're welcome to stay and listen, I suppose, and it's not like I could stop you if I wanted to." The wolf gave a snort that could almost be laughter, but remained where he lay on the hearth. Jaskier turned back to the piano, pulling out another familiar song, this one a slow and sad affair about a soldier who returned from war to find his village, home, and family all destroyed. Partway through, when the story of the song revealed itself, the wolf whined quietly. Jaskier halted his playing, turning his head and raising an eyebrow, remarking dryly - "I didn't realize I was taking requests." Regardless, he set the song aside to find a third, this time a heroic ballad about a great king. The wolf seemed content with this, and Jaskier played it through to the end, then surprised both the wolf and himself by rising from the bench, setting out a few pages of music before the wolf's large paws. "Go on, pick one." Hesitantly, the wolf peered at the aged papers, before lightly placing his paw on one. Jaskier grinned at the song he had chosen, it was one of Jaskier's favorites, a winding epic about a monster-slaying hero and the trials of his lonely life. It was sad, but it was beautiful, and it ended with the hero finally at peace with himself and the world during his dying moments. It had made Jaskier weep more than once, and it did once more now, though honestly he doubted it would take much to make him weep at the moment. He took a deep, shuddering breath as the song ended, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. "Sorry," he muttered, feeling strangely embarrassed to be crying in front of this great, stoic beast.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wolf opened his eyes again, looking at him with sympathy this time, then stood and left the room. Jaskier wasn't sure if the wolf was giving him a chance to grieve on his own, or if his playing was worse than he'd thought. Or perhaps, he mused lightly, the wolf was simply </span>
  <em>
    <span>deeply</span>
  </em>
  <span> uncomfortable with emotions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No matter the reason, he would take the reprieve. He was strangely exhausted despite having done so little, though he reasoned that might have to do with the stress of being kidnapped and held captive. He closed the cover on the piano and stood, going back to "his" room. The tub had reappeared, once again full of steaming hot water, and there was a tray with stew and a hunk of bread and a glass of water next to a stack of clean bedclothes. He suspected that, no matter if he bathed or ate first, the bath and the meal would both remain hot as long as needed. He ate first, savoring the stew, and found he had suspected correctly when he stepped into the bath and it was still the perfect temperature. He soaked the tension in his muscles away until his fingers began to prune, then dried and dressed and got into bed, realizing as he did that the lights in the room had dimmed slowly until the room was now almost dark, as if mimicking sunset. He wondered idly if the lights were tied to the actual time outdoors, or if they just started dimming when he started getting ready for bed. It didn't matter much, he supposed, as he wasn't likely to get outside anytime soon and find out for himself. He closed his eyes as the lights grew dimmer and eventually went out around him, and this time he did dream - he dreamt of home, and wildflowers, and cold snow and warm fur and deep, yellow eyes.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Idk if there's really much to say about this one, it's just sort of Jaskier's first night and day in the castle! Also I don't have anyone beta reading this for me so if you notice, like, a Very Blatant Error I make you can definitely point it out 😅 Aside from that, sorry this one's a little shorter than the first, but I hope y'all enjoy!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>His second day in the castle was similar to the first - breakfast left on a tray, clothes folded neatly on the chair. He ate and dressed, leaving his room and checking the foyer, surprised this time to see the wolf sleeping in front of the hearth, which had burnt down to scarcely more than ash and embers. The wolf’s ears twitched, but he made no move to rise or acknowledge Jaskier in any way, so Jaskier simply nodded and turned back down the hall, into the music room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He spent more time rifling through the sheets of music this time, sorting them into three distinct piles: songs he knew, songs he didn’t know but that seemed interesting, and songs he really had no interest in, mostly hymns and some of the more needlessly melancholy songs. Of the ones that he knew and the ones that seemed interesting, he set aside any that he felt the wolf may enjoy; if he was trapped here forever, he may as well at least try to make life with his captor a little easier, and shared tastes in music had always served him well with others. He bundled the songs together and rose, sitting on the bench and selecting one of the familiar tunes, a jauntier, bawdy piece about a fishmonger’s wayward daughter that he hoped might lift his spirits. He started and stopped a few times, keying sour notes and cursing until he gave up with a sigh, deciding that maybe lifting his spirits with music may have been too ambitious a goal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t pick out a new song, instead covering the piano back up and standing from the bench, leaving the room and deciding to continue his explorations. He strode down the hallway, hardly sparing a glance for the sleeping wolf as he crossed the foyer to a different hallway. This one was similar to the first, two bedrooms and two studies, but instead of a music room this hallway contained a room full of weaving supplies: two looms, a spinning wheel, wool and thread of every quality and color imaginable. His eyebrows rose, and he tilted his head, considering the room. He had learned a small amount of weaving from his mother, but had never been terribly good at it. He would certainly have time to practice now, though, and he made a note to keep the room in mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He went down a couple more hallways, finding little that piqued his interest - a few more bedrooms, another study, a treasury, a room that seemed to be entirely full of bottles of mysterious liquids and bundles of herbs that were far too dry to be of any use now, and what looked to be an armory. He briefly considered the armory, but he had next to no experience with a blade and doubted he could best the wolf in a fight, and even if he did manage such a feat he had no clue how he would get home on foot. He also found a few locked doors, which would not budge no matter how hard he pushed, and these he gave up on after a few tries each. The last hallway, though, ended in a massive library. Jaskier’s eyes widened as he took in the two-story room, the shelves packed full with what must have been thousands of books, more than he had seen in one place certainly, even when he had visited Oxenfurt as a child. There were polished mahogany tables and plump, plush armchairs in the center of the room, and he immediately went up to the shelves, pulling down anything that caught his interest. Authors he recognized, interesting titles, spines with intricate designs, all came flying from the shelves in his nimble hands, and he began making neat little piles on the tables. He and the wolf seemed to be the only people here, after all, he may as well make a mess; he just hoped the castle’s strange magic didn’t clean it up during the night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was on the second level, still pulling down books, when the lights began to dim. “Well, that answers one question I suppose,” he huffed to the empty room. He sorted one last armful of books into their proper piles, hoping once again that the piles would all be there the next day, and went back out to the foyer and across to his room, noting to himself that the wolf was conspicuously absent from the hearth now. “Probably </span>
  <em>
    <span>out</span>
  </em>
  <span> again,” he muttered bitterly under his breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ate and changed into his bedclothes, skipping the bath (two nights in a row was already more than he was accustomed to) and climbing into bed, letting himself drift off to sleep. He woke up, once, briefly, when he thought he felt someone climb into the bed with him. He was so tired, though, and he slipped quickly back into sleep. When he woke the next morning, the bed was just as it had been when he’d gotten into it, and he shook his head, writing the whole thing off as a dream.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His days went by steadily like that, waking up and eating, dressing, playing music or reading or weaving. He had begun a project on the smaller of the two looms, a simple scrap of fabric, meant more to remember the way the loom worked under his fingers than to be anything useful. He left the music room alone for a few days, and when he came back to it he didn’t touch the piano at first, instead sitting at a large harp in the corner. He plucked at the strings, so similar to those of his lute but so different at the same time, and sometimes he composed his own bars of music, putting lyrics to the chords and stringing bits and pieces together until he had something that almost resembled a song, and when that didn’t feel right he would pick up another instrument and play with the chords on that. He jumped between the two projects easily, and when neither held his attention the way he needed he would take off to the library, flitting between books and ideas, sometimes reading two, three, even four books at a time as he researched something that had caught his eye in yet another book. He occupied himself with these things until the lights dimmed, and he would go back to his room, eat, sometimes bathe and sometimes not, and sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wolf fell easily into this routine of his, often sleeping in the foyer when he awoke but following either his footsteps or the sound of his music into whichever room he had settled on that day. On the days he couldn’t settle, the wolf would give up following him after a while and settle back down in front of the hearth, which suited him just fine. Occasionally, they spoke, but most days the wolf still had trouble with words, and while Jaskier loathed the unending silence, he hated feeling like he was pulling teeth just asking the wolf a simple question even more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At some point, Jaskier began carrying his meals into the foyer to eat at the large table, and eventually the meals began appearing there instead of at his bedside, as if the castle had picked up his intent. Similarly, the books he had piled remained where they were, and his instruments and weaving implements always seemed to stay where he needed them as well, even if he left one of the rooms alone for a few days at a time. Once, he commented on being thirsty, and a glass of water was on the table beside him the next time he turned his head. After that, he played around with asking for things, and discovered that the castle would always try its best to accommodate his requests, though some requests it simply ignored, either unable or unwilling to provide what was asked. The wolf would, now and then, seem equal measures amused and exasperated with his more fanciful requests - particularly, his request for a fountain of liquid gold (fulfilled) and his request for a living copy of himself (ignored) - but by and large just left him to it. The items would disappear the next morning, which Jaskier found disappointing but unsurprising. Magic always had rules like that, he knew. He also found, after an incident with a cheese knife, that any minor injuries he acquired during a day would be erased in the dark of the night, which was both convenient and unsettling; he shuddered when he considered whether it would be better or worse if the castle was unable to fix more severe wounds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And every night, he felt the other side of the mattress dip as someone joined him, definitively </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> a dream. He presumed it had to be the wolf, but whenever he tried to speak out to his “guest” at night, the words never came, and the one time he tried to ask about it the wolf had left for three days, and he had slept alone for three nights. While that more or less proved his theory, the three days on his own had been nearly unbearable, and he resolved to never broach the subject again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The second presence in his bed grew strangely comforting, as was the rest of the small routines he had, particularly those between himself and the wolf. He had come to think of the wolf less as a captor, and more of a fellow prisoner, as he pulled what details he could from the human-turned-beast. While the wolf was able to leave the castle, he couldn’t actually go very far except under highly specific circumstances that, Jaskier inferred, were somehow related to the curse he was under. The curse itself was, of course, another reason Jaskier had grown to consider the wolf almost a partner in captivity. He hadn’t cursed himself, after all, and from what little the wolf said he remembered, it sounded as if he had also been stolen from his home and family, long long ago. Jaskier had asked him if he had a name, once, and he said he didn’t remember if he’d had one or not. When Jaskier had pointed out that he must have had a name once, he had merely nodded in agreement, a sadness behind his yellow eyes, and gone off to sleep. Jaskier stopped pressing for details on the wolf’s life as a human after that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slowly but surely, Jaskier grew more restless. The castle was good at providing entertainment, but there was only so long he could spend cooped up inside without going utterly mad. He tried cleaning, for a bit, but found it deeply unsatisfying in a magic castle that had kept itself spotless since its sole human occupant had taken to exploring. He also found that there was no kitchen in which he could cook, and nothing ever wanted for mending or repair. Making pretty music and weaving fine cloth and reclining in soft chairs was all well and good, but he craved </span>
  <em>
    <span>work.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The callouses on his hands had faded, and while he was developing new callouses from the harp, his lute, and the loom, they were softer and smaller and they weren’t in the right places. His time in this castle was changing him, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. Some days he scarcely recognized himself in the mirror, his face filled out more now that he was eating richly every day, but his hair was growing longer and it fell strangely untouched by the wind, and his eyes were dimmer and duller than he had ever remembered them being. Once, he tried cutting his own hair with a pair of scissors he found beside the shaving things he used in the mornings, and it helped, but only a little.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a few weeks, or perhaps months, it was nigh impossible to know, he stopped eating as much, and spent more and more time in bed. From time to time, the wolf would push open the door to check on in if he hadn’t emerged several hours after their simulated sunrise. He could tell, however, that Jaskier wasn’t in a mood for company - at least, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> company - and left him alone. He still joined Jaskier in the bed at night, for which Jaskier wasn’t certain if he should be grateful or furious, but during the days he gave Jaskier as much space as he was able. Eventually Jaskier stopped eating and drinking all together, not bathing or leaving his bed either. The castle’s magic kept him alive and fought off the worse effects of starvation and thirst, but he still felt pangs of hunger and thirst. He was used to these, though, and found them easy enough to overlook during the few hours in which he was awake each day. The wolf resumed checking on him, but seemed uncertain what to do. The only way to help Jaskier, really, was to bring him home, and that was the one thing the wolf couldn’t do for him. He took to sleeping in Jaskier’s room in wolf form as well as human now, leaving occasionally to do whatever it was he did outside the castle, but otherwise remaining at Jaskier’s bedside. Jaskier hardly noticed, though, consumed as he was by the endless fog of numb grief that clouded his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One day, when the wolf could stand it no longer, he took Jaskier’s hand gently in his mouth, tugging on the man’s arm. Jaskier pulled his arm back, but the wolf did not relent, tugging more insistently until Jaskier stood. The wolf brought him some bread from the foyer, which he ate once it was put into his hand, and nudged him out the room. He led Jaskier to one of the locked doors in an adjacent hallway, and the door swung open as soon as he touched it, as if it had been waiting for him. The room behind the door was largely empty, save for a single full-length mirror standing near the back wall in an intricately gilded frame. Jaskier peered at the glass, running a hand over his jaw, where evidence of his lengthy stupor grew thick and dark. The wolf pushed him closer to the mirror and took his hand in his mouth again, and now that Jaskier was a little more awake he had the wherewithal to pull his hand away and say, curtly, “Please just tell me what you want me to do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Touch the glass,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the wolf answered plainly, though there was a note of anxiety and what could almost be excitement behind his voiceless words. Jaskier did as he said, reaching out and brushing his fingertips over the cold glass, and gasped when it clouded over white before dissolving into a familiar image.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he breathed out, staring out at his sister, Katarzyna, and her three children, all seated around a table for breakfast. Her husband, Oskar, came into view and kissed her gently as he sat down at the table as well, and Jaskier realized he could see them all speaking but could not hear them. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, crumpling to his knees on the hard floor. “Oh,” he said again, tears falling fast now, burning twin trails down his cheeks. “Kaska,” he murmured, reaching for his sister’s face, longing to hear her voice. The image clouded over again and he let out a whimper of pain and loss, but it came back into focus once more, this time on Aleksander and Aurelia. They sat in a library, much like the one here in the castle, poring over books together. Sometimes one of them would point a passage out to the other, or jot down notes. Jaskier felt hollow, empty and alone, desperately wiping tears from his eyes to keep his vision from blurring, drinking in every single second he could see of his family. Once more, the mirror’s image clouded, then resolved, this time showing his parents in a new home with Natalia and baby Cecylia, who was no longer as small as he remembered. He felt his heart ache like it was being squeezed behind his ribcage as the realization of what he was missing hit him all at once, like a blow to the chest - not just his family as they were when he left, but their lives now, who they had become in his absence, who they would continue to become. He had no idea how long he’d been gone, but he could tell it must have been several months, though not quite a year, judging by Cecylia’s size and the way she was confidently crawling about the room, trying to pull herself up against the wall. He felt a fresh wave of tears spill down his cheeks as he doubled over, now, wracked with sobs and crying freely. The wolf simply stood by his side, keeping a watchful eye on him, and slowly but surely Jaskier’s sobs died down to weak hiccups. He scrubbed at his face with his sleeves, the image in the mirror once again his own, his face blotchy and red and wet from crying, his breath still coming in heavy gasps. When he felt he had his voice again, he rounded on the wolf.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y..you </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> this was here? You’ve had this the whole, the whole fucking time and you never showed me? Never even </span>
  <em>
    <span>said</span>
  </em>
  <span> anything?” He was shaking still, but the tremors came from fury now, not grief. “You know, I was really starting to think that maybe you weren’t so bad. I felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span> for you, even, felt like we had something in common, trapped in this hellish place together. Hell, for a while I even convinced myself maybe you </span>
  <em>
    <span>cared</span>
  </em>
  <span> about me!” he roared, chest heaving, and the wolf flinched back at his rising volume. “I don’t give a fuck if I’m trapped in here forever with you,” he said coldly. “I don’t care if I die here and never speak to another living person again, I never want to see a single hair of your damned white fur so long as I live.” With that, he stood and turned, storming back to his room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wolf, for his part, left the door open and bade the castle to leave it that way. He would be punished for showing Jaskier the mirror whether he looked in it once or a thousand times, and if he could not take the boy home, at least he could give him this much.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>&gt;:3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Geralt - for this was the wolf's name, though he did not know it - spent the rest of that evening outside, trying to escape the echoing memory of Jaskier's sobs. He ran as far as he was allowed, then circled back, running laps until the ice was cutting into his paws and the wind left a ringing in his ears. He returned to the castle only once the last rays of sun were fading from the sky, stumbling from the tunnel and into the foyer on two human legs, shivering without his fur. His hands and feet bore the same cuts his paws had sustained, and his ears still rang with the howling of the wind. He walked through the dark castle, wincing with every step, pushing open the door to Jaskier's room and slipping quietly into the bed. He felt Jaskier tense beside him, and wished he could do or say </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Apologies gathered on the tip of his tongue, explanations pressed against his sealed lips, but all for naught, and the night passed in silence, as it always did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He woke from a deep slumber early in the morning, before the lights came on, and left the room as quickly and as quietly as he had entered, laying in front of the hearth as he began to take his beastly shape again. Transformation was always a painful process - joints popping, bones shrinking and stretching, muscle and sinew twisting. He grit his teeth through it all, bearing the change in silence. Once upon a time, he would yell and scream as his body rearranged itself. When he was first brought to the castle, decades ago, he would wail in agony every morning and every night, and spend most of his days trembling and exhausted from the process. Now, though, he was used to it, and while it still exhausted him and it still hurt like a thousand hot pokers thrust into his flesh, he had other concerns occupying his thoughts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt fought the urge to fall onto the hearth and back to sleep, instead making his way to the room with the mirror. It was still ajar, small mercies, and he pushed into the room, lifting a paw to the unnaturally cold glass. The mirror clouded over, as it had yesterday for Jaskier, but when the image resolved it showed a young woman, beautiful and menacing, sitting at a vanity and brushing her long, dark hair. She looked into her own mirror, violet eyes reflected back to him, and the wolf swore she saw him. It was impossible, but he broke contact with the glass regardless, stepping away from the mirror and backing directly into-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Wolf." Jaskier's voice was no warmer than it had been the last time they had spoken, and the wolf could see his glower in the mirror. He turned and stepped past the boy, heart thudding in his chest. He heard Jaskier sit before the mirror and knew without looking that he was watching his family once again, just as the wolf himself once had.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Having done what was needed in the mirror room, he left hastily, turning back to the foyer. He lay in front of the hearth, feeling exhaustion settling deep in his bones, but sleep refused to come. His thoughts were too loud, unbidden but unrelenting, turning over and over in his mind like a puzzle he just couldn't solve. He wanted to help Jaskier, but how? At this point he was willing to simply remain cursed and let the boy go, but the Queen wouldn't accept that, he knew. She wouldn't risk the curse rebounding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually he fell into a restless and uneasy sleep, stirring only once he heard Jaskier's footsteps cross the room. He opened his eyes, surprised to see the castle was already almost completely dark. Jaskier must have spent the whole day by the mirror, until he could no longer see the damned thing; the wolf briefly wondered if showing him the mirror had been a mistake. It didn't really matter now, though. It was too late to take it back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As was becoming almost a habit by now, he waited until he had regained his human form, rising unsteadily to his feet and shivering as he made his way to Jaskier's room. He moved silently, but he realized as he slipped into the bed that Jaskier was already, or perhaps still, awake. Had he taken to staying up, waiting for the wolf? Geralt wanted to ask, but as always, the layers of magic on the castle and himself kept his tongue still and his voice silent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This new routine - Geralt, every morning checking on the girl in the guarded room, and sleeping the rest of the day; Jaskier, spending his days in front of the mirror, watching his family and not moving until the lights were nearly out; the two of them still sharing the bed each night - continued for weeks. Jaskier remained thin and tired-looking as he barely touched his food, but at least he was eating at all now. Geralt missed the way they used to spend their days, missed Jaskier's music and his weaving and his stories, but he knew he had no one but himself to blame for this new, hollow silence that had settled between them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The routine broke, finally, as the wolf was sleeping; more specifically, as he was shaken awake by Jaskier, kneeling on the hearth and staring at him with shining eyes, wet with tears. "Wolf," he croaked, voice rusty from disuse. "Wolf, please, my father, he's sick, dying- please, I need to see him, is there- is there any way you can take me back? Not forever, but just- just to say goodbye?" His hands had not left the wolf's side, clutching at his fur as if it were the only thing keeping him together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wolf was silent for a moment, considering, then dipped his head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can give you one week. Nothing more.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He was startled, but not displeased, to feel Jaskier fling himself forward and wrap his arms around the wolf's neck in a hug, sobbing and murmuring thanks into his fur. He stayed there, weeping and hiccuping, until he fell asleep. There were still a few more hours of light, so the wolf did not wake him, knowing that he had not been sleeping well either. When the lights did begin to dim, though, he pulled himself carefully from Jaskier's grasp and pushed at him with his muzzle to wake him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He blinked blearily as he woke, then flushed a pale pink. "Oh, oh gosh, did I- did I fall asleep on you? Oh I am so sorry, I didn't think I was that tired, I-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It's fine,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the wolf interrupted. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Go, pack your things then rest. We leave at sun up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thank you, again, I don't- thank you." Jaskier hurried to his feet, then turned. "I… I know it's you, every night, in my bed. I'm still angry that you kept the mirror from me, but… you've given me the space I asked for, and you're giving me a chance to say goodbye to my father. Come on." He beckoned to the wolf, who rose cautiously, uncertain of how to proceed. "You may as well come to bed with me now, instead of fumbling your way over in the dark."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Very well.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The wolf followed, curling up beside the bed and watching with one open eye as Jaskier packed away the few things that had left his bag, and pulled out a set of his own clothes to wear home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Can't very well show up at home in one of these," he chuckled, plucking at the fabric of his green doublet - as always, unbuttoned. The wolf wondered, sometimes, if Jaskier didn't know the appropriate way to wear the rich clothing, or if he knew and simply did not care. He very intentionally did not watch as Jaskier stripped down to his underthings and put on his sleep clothes, and didn't even notice he'd gotten into the bed until he heard him patting the empty section of sheets. "Well, come on then. It's fine."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wolf stayed where he was, conflicted. He was sure it showed in his eyes, for when he said simply, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I...can't. Not yet,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jaskier seemed to take his answer in stride.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alright then. Goodnight, Wolf." He turned on his side and fell into a deeper sleep than he had in weeks, if not months, and the wolf was surprised at how pleased he was to hear Jaskier's voice again. He hadn't realized just how much he missed his company.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When darkness fell, and the wolf became a man once more, he joined Jaskier under the covers and slept almost as deeply, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A bit of Geralt's view this time! Hope you enjoyed :) Chapters 5 and 6 will take place during the same timeframe, first from Jaskier's perspective and then from Geralt's, so I'm going to upload them together. This does mean the next update may take a little longer, but it'll also be more content, so hopefully that makes up for the wait!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jaskier woke in the morning feeling more rested than he could remember ever feeling since his first few days in the castle, as if his every nerve was alight with a giddy, pulsing energy. He was going to see his family. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He was going to see his family.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nigh about leapt from the bed, scarfing down his breakfast and dressing quickly. He fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, sewn three times over by his own clumsy hands, and was surprised at how quickly he had gotten used to the rich garb the castle provided. Fastening his cloak and picking up his pack, he went out to the foyer, nearly </span>
  <em>
    <span>skipping</span>
  </em>
  <span> with how strong the spring in his step had become.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wolf was, of course, waiting patiently for him, and began to pad towards the tunnel entrance when he saw Jaskier. He paused there, and Jaskier took hold of his fur as he had all those months ago, though now instead of fear and exhaustion he felt a restless sort of hope. He also realized, with more than a little surprise, that he was going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>miss</span>
  </em>
  <span> the castle. Sure, it wasn't exactly his favorite place in the world, and he resented being imprisoned in it, but he'd gotten used to it, and he would </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> miss the soft bed and hot baths.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier knew what to expect this time as the dark encased him and the wolf, and managed to keep his footing. When he and the wolf emerged, he squinted against the bright light, his face breaking into a grin at the feeling of sunlight on his skin for the first time in months. The wolf gave him a moment to bask before nudging him gently with his nose. He turned, his smile turning sheepish as he got the wolf's meaning - they had places to be, and it was a long ride back to his home. He slung a leg over the wolf's back, gripping with his thighs just behind the great beast's ribcage, his hands grasping easily at thick, white fur.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last time he had ridden the wolf, he'd been exhausted; this time, he was well-rested and determined to see as much of their surroundings as he could. He'd always wanted to travel, and while these weren't ideal circumstances, he didn't want to miss a minute of it. The harsh wind and stinging flakes of snow against his face made it difficult at first, and the wolf ran so fast that the landscape became little more than a blur, but when they passed over rivers and through forests they slowed down, and every time they did Jaskier gazed around them in wonder. It was well into summer now, quickly growing warmer as the travelled, and the forests were lush with new growth, greens of every shade bursting forth, fragrant blooms blossoming on bushes and trailing along vines as they snaked up the trunks of mighty oaks and swaying alders. The rivers ran bright and clear, and they stopped once so Jaskier could drink from one, and he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>delighted</span>
  </em>
  <span> to see a small school of salmon swimming up the stream, back to their birthplace to begin a new generation. Patches of snow still dotted the ground, but they became fewer and farther between as they moved south, and the ground below the snow was dotted with white snowdrops and purple crocuses. Jaskier had forgotten just how in love with the outdoors he was, and he pushed aside the knowledge that he would lose it all again in a week. He didn't want to dwell on that now, not when there was so much still to </span>
  <em>
    <span>see.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sun was high in the sky, early afternoon comfortably warm this far south, by the time they neared his village, and he began to recognize the shapes of the landmarks around them. The wolf came to a halt just outside the borders of the village, and Jaskier dismounted shakily, keeping his hands on the wolf until he was steady on his feet again. "Thank you," he whispered, hugging the creature tight around the neck once more, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. The wolf stiffened, but did not move away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One week,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he reminded the younger man. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Meet me back at this place at sun up in seven days.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes, yes of course." Jaskier released the wolf, straightening and nodding his goodbyes, thanking the wolf one last time before turning towards his home, clambering over gnarled tree roots and mossy stones. He looked back over his shoulder, once, but the wolf was already gone, and he paid him no further mind. The first signs village came into sight quickly, a few small houses and dirt paths, and as the ground evened out he broke into a run. He had seen his parents' new home in the mirror enough times to know where it was, and it was there he headed first, ignoring the confused and curious glances he drew from the people who had once been his neighbors.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Natalia spotted him before he had even reached the gate, and she stared, wide-eyed, as he came closer. "J...Julian? Julian, is that you?" Natalia's voice shook, and it sent a pang through Jaskier's chest to hear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's me," he confirmed, nodding as he opened the gate, approaching her with his arms held wide. She dropped her basket of vegetables she had been gathering, running to meet him halfway down the walk and wrapping her arms around his middle. He hugged her tight, hit all at once with how much he had missed human contact. Tears pricked at his eyes, threatening to fall into his sister's dark braids, and he felt a hard lump in his throat, keeping him from saying any more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he and Natalia stood there, their mother came out to determine who her daughter had been talking to. Her eyes landed on Jaskier, his hair perhaps a bit longer than when he'd left, and a shadow of stubble darkening his neck and chin, but there he was - her son was home. She gathered her skirts and shuffled down the walk as fast as her arthritic legs could carry her, wrapping her thin arms around her son and daughter both, as tight as she could. Her tears did not bother with threats, spilling openly down her cheeks as she held her children, as she looked at the face of the son she thought she would never see again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a few more moments of this, they broke apart, and Jaskier and Anita went back into the house as Natalie went to fetch Katarzyna. Aleksander and Aurelia were inside, in the singular bedroom caring for their father, but Aurelia poked her head out at the commotion, tugging on her elder brother's arm as she gaped wordlessly at her little brother; a title that she refused to stop using, despite the fact that Jaskier had been taller than her since he was 15. She ushered him forward, Aleksander grinning, awestruck, when he saw Jaskier cross the threshold of the room. There were more hugs and more tears, and it was testament to their father's ill health that he slept through it all, rousing only when Jaskier knelt by his bedside and clasped his frail, bony hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Julek?" Kacper's voice rasped horribly, and Aleksander hurried to hand Jaskier a cup of water, which he held to their father's lips so he could drink. It made little difference to the scratch of his throat at this point, but was refreshing nonetheless. His thirst quenched, he raised himself up on shaky elbows to look his son in the face. “Is it really you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded, and while his eyes had not been dry since he stepped into the house, the sound of his father’s voice brought a fresh wave of tears, and for a moment all he could do was nod. When he did find his voice, it was choked and wet, but he managed to confirm, “It’s me, Papa. It’s me.” He rose, cautiously gathering his father in a hug, trying not to feel his heart break at how small and frail his father had gotten in the months he’d been away. It reminded Jaskier of when he’d found a robin’s eggshell on the ground, once, when he was very young. It weighed almost nothing at all, and was so lovely a shade of blue in his hands; he had tried to hold it gently, and to take it home, but in his excitement his small hands had crushed it into little pieces, fragments of the sky falling from his tiny fists. His father felt the way that eggshell had, as if one wrong move could break him into those same little pieces, but Jaskier’s hands had grown nimble with experience, and he held his father so, so carefully in his arms. He wept, then, openly and without restraint. He had seen his father in the mirror, of course, that was why he had come here in the first place, but seeing him in person, </span>
  <em>
    <span>holding</span>
  </em>
  <span> him and feeling how he trembled in Jaskier’s grasp, as if merely holding himself upright was a great exertion… Once again, Jaskier was hit by that grief-yet-to-come, the knowledge that he would have to return to the castle sitting heavy in the bottom of his stomach, and he did not think he would be lucky enough to persuade the wolf to bring him home each time one of his family members was deathly ill, or got married, or had a new child. All those momentous occasions, the sort of events that brought families together and signalled new phases in one’s life. He would miss them all, he knew, and that ache of loss filled his lungs and coiled around his ribs like a dark and sticky sap, stuck fast in his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aurelia touched his shoulder gently and he was pulled from his brief reverie, nodding and gently laying his father back onto the bed. “Sleep, Papa. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He kissed his father’s wrinkled forehead, then turned to join the rest of his family in the main room. Natalia had returned, with Katarzyna in tow, and after one last hug-filled and tear-stained reunion, they sat in a rough circle, taking up a couch, two chairs, and a roughly cut log that wasn’t really intended for sitting, but it served well enough. Jaskier sat on the floor at the hearth, as he always had when he was younger, and all eyes were on him, though some were more subtle than others.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So?” Aurelia prodded after a beat or two of continued silence. “What happened? Where did you go? Why are you back?” Natalia elbowed her twin, and Jaskier winced sympathetically, having his own wealth of firsthand knowledge on just how sharp her elbows could be. “What?” protested Aurelia, scowling. “We all want to know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span> we want to know, Relka, but we don’t know what he’s been through, and we shouldn’t make him talk if he doesn’t want to.” Natalia hissed her words through clenched teeth, as if Jaskier were in the next room or perhaps outside, not sitting all of three feet away from her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine with talking about it, I just...don’t know where to start, I suppose.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, then start where we left off,” Katarzyna suggested, as if they were simply coming back to an enthralling storybook, and not her brother’s personal woes. “Where did the wolf take you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“North. Very far north. There’s a castle, sort of, hidden inside a mountain - I didn’t see daylight after we arrived, not until we left to come here. It’s a nice enough place, lots to do, food and water aplenty, and a hot bath and a soft bed every night, but...it’s very lonely.” His eyes cast down toward the floor, dimming softly as he spoke. “It’s just me and the wolf there-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He lives in the castle too?” Aurelia butted in, earning another elbow to the ribs and a soft chuckle from Jaskier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, he lives in the castle too. He actually...well. It’s hard to put into words, he’s- he’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> a wolf, he says he’s a human under a curse, and I believe him, because- well, this is the odd part, he, ah. Well, he sleeps in my bed, at night, and I can feel him get into the bed and it certainly </span>
  <em>
    <span>feels</span>
  </em>
  <span> like a human. The, er, the castle is enchanted, it gets pitch dark at night and you can’t see a thing but like I said, I can feel the bed shift, and-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, wait, go back, hang on. This wolf, who may or may not be a human, but who </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> kidnapped you, just...sleeps in your bed? What, every night? And you haven’t, I dunno, kicked him out or told him to piss off?” Aleksander looked at him incredulously, as if astounded by his brother’s utter lack of sense, and Jaskier could feel the others casting him similar stares, and he could also feel a flush creeping up onto his cheeks and reddening the tips of his ears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Every night, yes, and there’s...the castle, like I said, it’s enchanted, I think it sort of...lulls you to sleep at night? I don’t know, I don’t know much about magic and enchantments. I do know that I can never bring myself to move or speak at night, really, it’s not that I can’t I just never </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to in the moment. I tried sleeping elsewhere in the castle, too, but all that earned me was a lot of insomnia. I don’t know for certain, but I’m guessing the wolf has similar...restrictions.” He shrugged, as if that were all there was to say on the matter, and his family exchanged worried glances.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“O...kay,” Aurelia said, filing the subject away for further prodding later, and maintaining her role as interviewer. “So, why are you back? It seemed like he was planning to take you, y’know, forever. Not that we’re not glad to see you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s only temporary,” Jaskier admitted. “Just for a week.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why? When will we see you again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I...don’t know. Probably...never, honestly.  The only reason I’m here now, there’s this mirror in the castle he showed me, and I saw Papa was ill and begged him to bring me. I got the impression there were some rules he was breaking, or something, and truth be told I think he only made this exception because he felt...</span>
  <em>
    <span>bad</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I got really upset with him, we had a bit of a row-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>row?</span>
  </em>
  <span> With a </span>
  <em>
    <span>wolf?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Aleksander’s eyes had not lost their astounded appearance, rather, they seemed to get even wider with shock and bafflement at this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A </span>
  <em>
    <span>magic</span>
  </em>
  <span> wolf who is probably a cursed human and who can communicate somehow with his mind, yes.” Jaskier glowered at his brother, challenging him to argue when they’d all heard the wolf’s words when he had first appeared - </span>
  <em>
    <span>I have come for the boy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Point taken.” Aleksander sat back in his chair, sulking and refusing to meet his brother’s eye.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so… You and this wolf, who is probably a cursed human but we can’t be certain, live together in an enchanted castle hidden inside a mountain way up north. This wolf sleeps in your bed at night, possibly in the form of a human man, and also felt bad because you had a row and you were upset over it, so he brought you back home but only for a week.” Katarzyna counted off on her fingers as she listed points of Jaskier’s story. “Does that about sum it up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suppose, though I think I told it better.” Jaskier shrugged nonchalantly, but was barely concealing a grin; he had missed this sort of banter with his siblings. “Any other questions?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“About a thousand, but it’s getting late, and Mama’s already falling asleep.” Aurelia grinned, nodding towards their mother, who was indeed snoring quietly in her rocking chair. She raised her head briefly when she heard herself mentioned, but returned to sleep when it seemed that no one really needed her immediate attention.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The others seemed to agree, and Jaskier rose to his feet as he followed the apparent consensus, though truth be told he wasn’t very tired. There were still far too many lights on for him to feel like it was time for bed. There was a brief discussion of sleeping arrangements, and it was decided he would stay with Natalia in her living room, as Cecilia was young enough still that she wouldn’t really need an explanation for Jaskier’s sudden, though temporary, return. They weren’t sure what they would tell the other children, or even </span>
  <em>
    <span>if</span>
  </em>
  <span> they would tell them, but they agreed that was a question for the morning, when they were all rested. Aleksander and Aurelia pulled out blankets to sleep in the living room at their parents’ home, and they left Anita in her chair for the night; it was difficult, these days, to get her into bed beside Kacper without potentially hurting him. Jaskier grabbed his things and, after several rounds of goodnights and farewells, followed Natalia and Katarzyna out the door, going with Natalia as she turned off the main path before their sister.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her husband was still awake when they returned, and he greeted Jaskier enthusiastically, though quietly - apparently, he had only just gotten Cecilia to sleep about half an hour ago. They set up Jaskier’s temporary bed, which was really some blankets and a pillow on their couch, which in turn was really more of a bench than a proper couch, and said their goodnights before going to bed themselves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The so-called couch was brutally hard, particularly after spending so long sleeping in his soft bed back at the castle, and the noises of the night did nothing to help him sleep. He hadn't realized just how quiet the castle was, though it made sense, considering it seemed to be carved into the mountain.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>After tossing and turning on the wooden bench for hours, or maybe only minutes, Jaskier stood and found his boots in the not-quite-dark of the little house, the scant moonlight spilling through the cracks between closed curtains more than enough for him to see by. He put them on and laced them up before venturing outside, careful to open and close the door very quietly - not silent, though. Nothing here was silent.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The crisp night air smelled strange and familiar all at once, and he took a moment to just breathe it in, basking in the memories of home. The moon was high in the sky and his breath escaped in soft puffs of mist as he strolled down the walk, out the gate and away, letting his feet take him down paths he knew as well as he knew his own hands. Eventually, he found himself standing back outside his childhood home, a  ghost hovering just outside the fence. He didn't want to startle the people who lived there now, but he had to see it at least once before he left.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Restless itch satisfied for now, he turned and meandered back towards his sister's home. The sun would be rising soon, and he didn't want her to worry about where he'd gone.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When he got back, the sky was a dull lavender, and he slipped his boots back off before lighting a fire in the hearth so he could start making breakfast for everyone. A nice surprise, he thought, for his family who'd graciously offered him their home when he turned up out of the blue. Natalia and her husband came out while he was still cooking eggs in a soot-blackened pan, Cecylia fidgeting where Natalia had her held against her hip.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"You're up early, Julek." She yawned, passing the baby to her husband as she knelt to join him at the hearth. "You sleep okay?"</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Wonderfully, thank you," he lied. No need to worry her unduly about his insomnia.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Glad to hear it. Anything I can do to help with breakfast?"</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"No, no. Shoo. Consider it my thanks."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't need to thank me, Julek. We're family." Regardless, she stood and went to sit with her husband and daughter, grateful for the opportunity to rest.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They ate and talked when Jaskier had finished cooking, and Natalia insisted on doing the dishes ("You cooked! It's only right that I do the washing up") while her husband took care of the outside chores, gathering eggs and making sure the chickens and one grumpy goat had food and water. After, they made their way to their parents' home, sitting down to catch Jaskier up on everything he'd missed in the months he'd been gone.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>aw! what a nice family. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>content warnings for beatings, injury, blood, and General Unpleasantness. and remember, this chapter takes place during the same timeframe as the previous chapter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The morning came quickly, and the wolf could see that his reluctant companion was eager to get moving. The seasons had turned twice now, and it was warmer out, which meant they'd make good time. He led the boy through the tunnel and waited patiently for him to get comfortable on his back, then set to running. Last time, Jaskier had been mostly asleep - this time, the wolf got to hear his excited little exclamations as they passed through a particularly lovely field of flowers, or heard a bird sing as they raced past. It was… pleasant, he found, and he was almost sad to see the familiar trees of the boy's village. He would miss the company.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wolf watched the boy leave through the trees, trusting that he would return, and only hoping he wouldn't hate the wolf for taking him from his home once more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn't spend the whole week away from the castle - as it was, he could already feel the magic pulling him back in like a fish caught in a net. It could not physically move him, not like a force or a person could, but it was an insistent </span>
  <em>
    <span>tugging </span>
  </em>
  <span>deep in his chest that grew harder and harder to ignore until it swallowed all thought and reason, leaving him with only the knowledge that he had to get back to the castle. As soon as Jaskier was gone from his sight, the wolf turned and ran, feeling the pull on the core of his being ease just a bit with each step closer to his prison.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was nearly nightfall when he arrived at the mountain concealing the castle, and he smelled the new presence before he saw it: Huldra. The queen, same as the scent of magic that lingered in his fur, a deeply familiar smell that was the closest thing he knew to the smell of "home." He slowed as he approached, bowing low on his forepaws when he was close enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You've been disobedient, my pet." The Troll Queen stared down at him over her nose, unnatural in its perfection as all aspects of her outward appearance. "First letting him use the glass, now taking him </span>
  <em>
    <span>home</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Tut, tut, wolf. You ought to know better by now." The wolf whined low in its throat, afraid to look up into the black pits of her eyes. "What am I going to do with you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don't know, my Lady.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I think I have an idea." She smiled cruelly, twisting the staff in her hand until it was a thin sword, sharp edge shining in the moonlight - and then she stopped. Waiting, it seemed, for something.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With rising panic, the wolf realized the sun had almost entirely set - any moment now, he was going to change back to his human form. The grinding and tearing of bone and sinew were bad enough, but the anticipation of punishment was worse. The last crack of his joints popping into place was followed immediately by a lashing slice at his skin, pain lancing across his shoulder in a line. Another, along his spine, and a third below his ribcage. Over and over, the chill of the steel and the searing pain mingling into one, overtaking all his senses with the sheer burning pain of it. He cried out, his voice weak and raspy with disuse, curling in on himself as he received his punishment. He'd known it was coming, and it was worth it for Jaskier's sake, but that didn't lessen the pain any.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she was done, the troll queen turned away, giving one final instruction before leaving him alone in the crimson-streaked snow. "Tomorrow morning, you are to go and retrieve the boy. Do not let this happen again."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When dawn broke, Geralt screamed into the empty whiteness with the pain of his transformation, scabs that had formed in the night tearing, wounds opening anew across his back, fur pushing its way through raw skin. He'd lain there in the snow all through the night, freezing and shivering but unable to get up and make it into the castle, and thus missed his chance to let its healing magic work. The ice had numbed him a bit by now, but the pain bit deeper than the cold.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slowly, shakily, he pushed himself to his paws and tried to get into the castle, but found the entrance was blocked. She'd been serious about him leaving immediately - hopefully Jaskier would still be able to ride on his back when they met, or they would have a long journey ahead of them. He turned away from the mountain, padding through bloodied snow as he set out back the way he'd come.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>heyo! bet y'all thought i'd forgotten about this one. i didn't, but i was having trouble with it for a while - hopefully i'll be updating a little more often from here on out? anyway.</p><p>sorry geralt :( next chapter will be better though, i promise. still sad, but... better.</p><p>don't forget to check the chapter before this, too! double update whoo</p><p>oh p.s. the troll queen is tissaia - less because of her own character and more because of her relation to yennefer both in canon and in this story</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jaskier was in the middle of listening to a story about Cecylia's first full sentence when there was a thud at the door. The siblings exchanged nervous glances, and Jaskier stood, approaching the door constantly. He was utterly unprepared for the sight that greeted him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Wolf! What are you- you're hurt! What happened?" The white wolf was collapsed on the front step, his fur stained red in streaks along his back, breathing heavily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Have to… go. Quickly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Go? But it's only been a day! I thought I had a week?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not... my decision. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The wolf's words, though voiceless, came with as much labor as his breathing, and he seemed to be struggling to find the right ones.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Wait, what?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You can't take him! Not again!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Why can't he stay?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The siblings' voices overlapped one another, all desperate for answers and terrified to lose their brother once more, but they quieted when Jaskier held up his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"First thing's first. You're hurt. Can we help?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don't know.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Then we may as well try. Kaska, can you put some water on to boil? And Alek, do we have any old cloths we could use for rags and bandages?" The eldest siblings met each other's gaze, both clearly reluctant to help the wolf, but even more reluctant to upset their baby brother. They stood, attending to the tasks they'd been given, as Jaskier knelt beside the wolf and rolled up his sleeves. "Can I touch you? I need to see the wounds if I'm to treat them." The wolf did not reply, but seemed to give a small nod of its head, and Jaskier carefully ran his hands through thick fur, sticky with blood. "You're covered in cuts, what on earth happened to you? No, never mind, you can tell me later. Is there any internal damage?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don't think so.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay. Okay, that's good." Katarzyna brought over a basin of steaming water, to which Alek had already added a few old towels and scraps of faded fabric. Gently, almost tenderly, Jaskier cleaned the blood away from the wounds, making quiet noises of comfort and sympathy as the wolf whined at the pain. Everyone else watched on in morbid fascination; they'd seen him do this before, with farm animals and his nieces and nephews, but the kindness with which he treated his captor was unfathomable to them. "It looks like they're fairly shallow, at least. A few of them may need stitching - may I?" Again, the wolf merely nodded, and Jaskier asked his family for a needle and thread. He sewed the deepest wounds closed, and wished dearly that he had more supplies on hand as he cleaned them yet again and studied his work. Even with stitching, they would need time to heal - time it sounded like they might not have. "You said we have to leave quickly - is my family in danger?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not yet.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How long can we stay?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not very.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded grimly. "How long a journey is it, if I'm not on your back?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Long.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The wolf's eyes were dimming, and Jaskier's shoulders sagged as he regarded the creature, sighing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, not much of a choice I suppose. You rest for now, stay here, try not to move too much. Is it alright if I shut the door, so I can talk to my family?" The wolf nodded once more, and Jaskier did just that, turning to face his siblings.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What the fuck?!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Language!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Kaska, the wolf who </span>
  <em>
    <span>kidnapped our brother</span>
  </em>
  <span> just collapsed on our </span>
  <em>
    <span>porch </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>stitched its wounds!</span>
  </em>
  <span> I am allowed to swear about that!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm with Relka on that, honestly."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alek!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We're all adults, calm down."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Speaking of being adults-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Can we </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> calm down for a minute, maybe?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"There is a bloodied kidnapping cursed wolf on our </span>
  <em>
    <span>doorstep </span>
  </em>
  <span>no I will not calm down!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nati."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alek."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Everyone! Be </span>
  <em>
    <span>quiet!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Jaskier did not often shout at them, and when he did he could frequently bring any and all conversation to a halt, as he did this time. "Firstly, I don't care if he took me away, he hasn't hurt me and I'm not going to let him bleed out when I can help. Secondly, I came here knowing I would have to go back. I thought I'd have longer, but clearly something's changed. Can we not all be grateful that I had this chance, and you know I'm safe when I leave this time?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you, though? I mean, whatever could do that to a wolf could easily do the same or worse to you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Also I would argue that taking you away from your home and family counts as hurting you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't see why you can't just refuse to go with it."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Him, not it - that wolf is a person, please remember that. And didn't you hear him? You all aren't in danger </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Whatever or whoever attacked him may come for me, or maybe whoever cursed him. I'm not risking all your lives if I don't have to. As for whether or not I'll be safe, Alek, I'll admit I don't know. But I feel like if I go back with him, I won't be hurt."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Again, being kept prisoner is a kind of hurt, Jask."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes, thank you Kaska, I heard you the first time. But the fact of the matter is the castle isn't that terrible, and at least I'm not alone there. And even if I were going to be hurt, I would chance that if it kept you and your families safe."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're our little brother. It's not your job to keep us safe."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's very kind of you to say, Nati, but it seems it's down to me whether we want it to be or not." He sighed again, looking for all the world like he could be the eldest of them - he'd always had a strong protective streak, even as a young child. They knew they wouldn't be able to talk him down from this. "I'm going to go say goodbye to Mama and Papa, and then I'll collect my things and go. I love you all so much, and I promise I won't stop looking for a way home, okay? But I have to do this." He stood and went to their parents' room, tearfully explaining the situation and hugging them both as tight as he dared, telling them over and over how much he loved them and how glad he was to get to see them one last time. Then he came back to the main room, hugging each of his siblings in turn and telling them the same, wishing desperately that he didn't have to let go, before opening the door and crouching down to help the wolf stand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you fit to walk?" The wolf nodded, looking somewhat steadier on its paws at least. "Could you support my weight, do you think?" The wolf nodded again, more hesitant this time, and Jaskier held up a fairly thick blanket his mother had given him, folded in half. "Let me try putting this on your back, okay?" He lay the blanket down carefully, smoothing it over the wounds, which were luckily at least no longer bleeding openly. "How's that?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fine.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Perfect. C'mon then, let's go." With one last goodbye, he shut the door, walking beside the wolf until they reached the edge of the village. "Do you want to see if you can hold my weight?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Distantly, the wolf remembered the pain of transforming without the castle's magic to heal his wounds, and he nodded fervently. Carrying Jaskier, he could make it to the castle before sundown at least. He dipped low and grunted when Jaskier pulled himself up, but the blanket protected his wounds from being too irritated, and he felt strong enough to carry Jaskier at least as far as they needed to go. He took off running, and the younger man clung to his fur almost as a matter of habit now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier was awake, but his vision was far too blurred with tears to appreciate the sights as he had on their way south.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sun was low in the sky when they reached the mountain, and the wolf was briefly afraid the entrance would still be blocked, but no - there was the tunnel, clear and open as it always was. He stopped to let Jaskier dismount, waiting until he felt fingers secure in his fur before leading the way through the dark.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Can you see in this?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Can you see in the castle as well, when it's dark at night?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The wolf wasn't sure where this line of questioning could be leading, but luckily it seemed those two answers were enough to satisfy Jaskier. He wasn't sure how many more words he had the energy to make tonight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they emerged into the main room, Jaskier was struck by how familiar it felt. How much like </span>
  <em>
    <span>home.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It was both comforting and unsettling, and he decided to shift his focus, instead turning to the wolf. "Let me take the blanket off and see-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It's fine.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, really, please just let me check-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Almost night. Bed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Huh? Oh. I suppose it is." Moving from the pitch black of the tunnel to the foyer, Jaskier had been glad enough for any light at all that he hadn't realized the lights were already dimming. "Well… let me do what I can, at least, and I'll go before the lights are entirely out." The wolf relented, laying down in his usual spot before the hearth, letting Jaskier come close and carefully take the blanket off, gently pulling where the blood had dried and the cloth stuck to matted fur and broken skin. "Do you want me to, I dunno, wash you? Your fur seems… awful, honestly. No offense."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tomorrow. Healed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier remembered the few small wounds he'd gotten that had healed by morning during his stay in the castle, and nodded. "Right, right. Even something that bad?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mostly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier found that the fact the wolf knew that, the fact he'd sustained injuries this bad before and had to let the castle heal them, twisted his gut sourly. "Alright. I suppose there's not much I can do then. I'll just head off to bed. Will you be…?" The wolf looked at him, eyes sad and uncertain, but it seemed he didn't have any words left in him today. "Alright. Well, you're… you're welcome to come in, if it's my permission you seek. I'm not angry. Not with you, at least." He gave the wolf one last scratch behind the ears before standing and making his way back to the bedroom, pausing only to undress and scrub the blood from his hands and arms before sinking into bed. He was fast asleep by the time the lights were out.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i love jaskier's siblings so much</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this one's pretty short, it's just a quick look at the wolf's perspective on last chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The wolf was barely conscious by the time Jaskier removed the blanket from his back, the bright sparks of pain where it tugged at his fur and skin the only thing keeping him from passing out. That, and Jaskier's voice. It was soothing, he'd come to realize, and he'd missed it that first night, alone and miserable with pain. He was quickly running out of energy to respond to the younger man, though, much as he wished they could sit and talk together as they once had. Jaskier seemed to understand and went off to bed, leaving the wolf with only an invitation: "You're welcome to come in, if it's my permission you seek."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It hadn't been about Jaskier's permission, really - the wolf was simply uncertain he'd be able to move after transforming. The curse wouldn't let him rest unless he was in Jaskier's bed, and while he'd tried in the past to stay away, he would quickly become too exhausted to overcome the pull of the magic. Still, it was nice, having his permission. He didn't like to think of Jaskier being upset with him, nor was he really comfortable with his inability to respect certain boundaries if Jaskier drew them. It was a relief, knowing he wouldn't have to break any trust between them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His transformation was, as it had been that morning, agonizing. He bit his tongue until the taste of copper filled his mouth this time, not wanting to wake Jaskier with his screams. When it was done, he lay in a heap on the hearth, wrapping himself in the blanket Jaskier had left beside him and shivering on the cold stone. Eventually, he had enough energy to stand - though just barely - and he made his way to Jaskier's room with halting, unsteady footsteps, falling into the bed with the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders, warm and smelling of Jaskier's home.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>we're getting into a bit of the Good Fluff for this chapter and the next one but uh. there will be more angst coming.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In the morning, Jaskier woke to an unusual sight - the wolf was still in his bed. Normally the wolf woke and left well before he was awake, but, he reasoned, running with Jaskier on his injured back and then letting the castle heal those wounds must have been exhausting taken all together like that.  He reached to run his fingers over the wolf's back, feeling the raised scars there, still angry and swollen but healed over at least, and smiled fondly when he saw the blanket he'd brought wrapped around the wolf. Idly, he wondered if the wolf ever got cold at night, losing his fur and usually sleeping above the covers as far as Jaskier could tell. He hadn't seen any clothes around aside from his own - maybe he should make the wolf something to sleep in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier scritched at the ruff of the wolf's neck before standing, stretching his arms high into the air. He dressed and ate, and still the wolf slept soundly. Quietly, he opened the door and walked out, biting his lip before making his way to the mirror room. Hopeful despite everything, he pushed on the door, but it was locked tight. He felt something nose at his hip, and realized he'd been followed. "Don't suppose you can unlock it?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The wolf's response was accompanied by a small whine, and he seemed reluctant to meet Jaskier's eye. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm sorry. I never should have shown it to you in the first place. I wasn't supposed to, and it only hurt you more.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"My, aren't we verbose today?" The wolf snorted his odd laugh, and Jaskier was glad that they could at least still have this. "You didn't hurt me, though, and I'm glad I got to see as much as I- wait, 'weren't supposed to'? What do you mean?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It's not allowed</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Not allowed? By who?" The wolf looked away guiltily and Jaskier's brow wrinkled in concern. "Is it the person keeping you- keeping us here?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What happens if you break those rules?" The wolf's tail curled between his legs as he looked more resolutely away, and Jaskier sank to his knees, digging his fingers into the fur at his neck and pulling the wolf to look him in the eye. "Did you… were you hurt because of me? Because you showed me the mirror, and took me home?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not because of you. My choices.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"But…" The wolf whined again, louder this time, and backed away out of Jaskier's grip. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, if I'd known, if- I was so angry, and you- Oh, dear heart." He wiped the back of his wrist across his eyes, trying to dry the tears beginning to blur his vision. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not your fault.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The wolf bumped his nose against Jaskier's arm, looking up at him earnestly, and Jaskier took a deep, shaky breath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay. Okay. Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" He stood, beckoning for the wolf to follow, and they found a tub of steaming water before the main room's hearth. "See? Even the castle thinks you need a bath." The wolf snort-laughed again as he let Jaskier help him into the tub and relaxed into the feel of his fingers running through his fur, gently washing away the dried blood with a soft-scented soap. He closed his eyes, dozing in the hot water, and Jaskier found himself watching the wolf with a fond sort of tenderness, scrubbing his nails through thick, sudsy fur.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he was done he helped the wolf out of the tub and dried him off with a conveniently-placed towel, then used the remaining water to wash some of the blood out of the blanket. There'd still be a faint stain, but it was far from the first on the old piece of fabric. His mother always said it gave it character. He spread the blanket in front of the fire to dry, and since it was still only about midday he ate a lunch the castle provided and then stood, ensuring the wolf was still lazing on the damp blanket before going to the weaving room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once there, he opened the cupboards, stepping back and contemplating the rows of colored yarn before him. After careful consideration, he picked out a few skeins - white, a few greys, and two shades of blue: one lighter, like his eyes, and one darker, like the cloak his mother had given him. He wasn't entirely certain </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>these were the colors he chose, but they felt right somehow, and he didn't want to spend too long overthinking it. Colors chosen, he sat down at the loom, looping the fine-spun yarn where he needed it and beginning to weave. He quickly fell into an easy rhythm, fingers as deft and nimble over the warp and weft of the fabric as they were over the keys of a piano or strings of a lute, and by the time the lights began to dim he'd made a good start on his newest project. He yawned and leaned back in his chair, catching sight of the wolf, who'd been lingering in the doorway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How long've you been there?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not long. What are you making?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's a surprise." Jaskier grinned, and the wolf looked at him blankly. "For you. As… as a thank you, I suppose. But! That means you're not allowed to watch me when I work on it." The wolf huffed, looking vaguely put out. "Oh, hush. You can still sit with me when I play music or go to the library, we both know I won't be able to work on this without doing other things too." The chair scraped over the stone floor as he stood, following the wolf back to his bedroom, pausing just long enough to grab the blanket off the floor on the way. He laid it on the wolf's side of the bed before changing into his sleep clothes, hurriedly eating his dinner and laying down as the lights grew fainter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before he fell asleep, he waited to feel the other side of the bed dip, and smiled when he heard the sound of someone wrapping themself in a blanket.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>jaskier cries a lot bc i project onto characters like nobody's business and i want to cry a lot ok</p><p>also yes i did put a hair-washing scene in despite geralt not being human. what of it</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>aaaaaaa i'm not always great at replying but i see all your comments and i'm so grateful, it really is encouraging, i love y'all so much</p><p>have some more fluff, dear hearts</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Their days went on much the same as they had before, though Jaskier was less prone to the deep sort of depression he'd fallen into his first few months. He still had days where he felt the loss of his family more sharply, and some of those days he spent in bed, with the wolf climbing up to lay beside him. Others, he spent sat against the door to the mirror room, wishing it would open and he could see his family's faces one more time. Sometimes, the wolf would offer to open the door and let him use the mirror, but the memory of the wolf collapsed, bleeding on the doorstep of his family's home, still chilled Jaskier to the bone. Knowing it had been for his sake… Well, he wasn't going to ask the wolf to risk himself like that again, and after a while the wolf learned that the offers only upset Jaskier more, and took to sitting quietly beside him instead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Most days, Jaskier spent at least some of his time in the weaving room, and the wolf was </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> affronted to find that Jaskier was able to lock him out of the room if he chose. The wolf had never been denied access to a room of the castle before, and his fur bristled at the idea, but he also knew Jaskier meant well - he just got lonely, sitting by the hearth without Jaskier's songs and stories.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And oh, the stories he told.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wolf didn't often have the energy to talk much, and even when he did, his memories before the curse were vague and hazy. He told Jaskier the few bits he could recall on his better days, but mostly he was content to listen to Jaskier. The young man told all sorts of stories - memories of his childhood, bawdy gossip he'd heard around the village and from the university, folktales and historical accounts his siblings had taught him. The wolf didn't remember all of them terribly well, and in fact he often dozed off and on through the ones that weren't about Jaskier himself, but his voice had become a near-constant presence, and it was pleasant and comforting in equal measure. He also enjoyed Jaskier's singing, often with instrumental accompaniment in the music room, but sometimes just on its own as he wove or sat before the fire with the wolf.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier, too, found himself cheered by the wolf's presence in the castle. Where before he'd thought of them as simply stuck here together, and for a time had resented the wolf for his scant power where Jaskier had none, learning that the wolf had risked himself to try and make Jaskier happier cast everything in a new light. He'd begun to notice the way the wolf fussed over him on his worse days, the way he insisted he eat and drink, listened intently to his stories (most of them, anyway), and lay outside the door waiting on days Jaskier wove. It was clear the wolf cared for him, and he found himself caring deeply for the wolf as well. Chalk it up to being stuck in the castle for weeks on end together, maybe they simply had no one else to care </span>
  <em>
    <span>about</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but Jaskier was happy to have the wolf around nevertheless.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rarely, Jaskier found himself weaving late into the night - he'd discovered that a candle he'd brought from home remained lit even in the castle's enchanted darkness, and sometimes he just couldn't pull himself away from the loom. He was making good progress, though - the garment was simple, little more than a long shirt that buttoned down the middle, but he'd taken great care in weaving patterns into the hems, and small blue flowers broke up the varied greys of the main fabric. The buttons he chose were made of amber, the same color as the wolf's eyes, and he was quite pleased with how the whole thing was turning out. The nights he stayed late in the weaving room, he'd snuff out the candle before going to bed - he didn't want to waste it, and he knew the paths of the castle by heart now - and he'd climb into bed beside the wolf, often settling a hand on his shoulder, the thick blanket between them. Neither of them could speak at night, still, but they were growing closer, and Jaskier found any way he could to make it clear to the wolf how much he appreciated his companionship.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, one evening, he emerged from the weaving room to see that the wolf had taken up his spot by the hearth. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Perfect</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Jaskier thought, as he snuck the garment to his room before going out to sit beside the wolf for dinner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I've got a surprise for you in my room," he said nonchalantly, grinning as the wolf's ears pricked in interest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What is it?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you, now would it?" Jaskier sopped up the last of his stew with a heel of brown bread, nudging the wolf with his shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Is it the thing you've been weaving?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You'll just have to wait and see." The wolf huffed and rolled his eyes at him, and Jaskier laughed, scratching behind his ears the way he knew the wolf loved. "You've waited this long, you'll survive til bedtime, I promise." So saying, he set his bowl aside and leaned over until his head rested against the wolf's shoulder, his blanket from home wrapped around them both. He told the wolf some of his favorite folktales - the ones about faeries and sirens and elves, though the ones about the huldrefolk always seemed to make the wolf uncomfortable - until finally, the lights began to dim. "C'mon." He stood, gesturing for the wolf to follow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wolf padded behind him to his room - their shared room, really - and cocked his head when Jaskier held up the 'surprise' proudly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's… it's not much, I know, but I realized you must be cold at night sometimes, so… it's for you to sleep in." Jaskier's heart was thudding and felt like it had wormed its way into his throat, and suddenly he realized this had probably been a foolish idea, the wolf must think him an idiot. "It's, it's not terribly well-made, I'll admit, and I don't know your exact size so it might be a bit big, but-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I love it. Thank you, Jaskier.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The wolf took the sleep-shirt gingerly in its teeth, and Jaskier released it to him with a grin before getting ready for bed himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That night, in the quiet and dark, the man who had once been a wolf dressed for the first time in living memory, and he fell asleep smiling, wondering if this was what home felt like.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>those of you who know the original tale are probably worried about the next chapter. as well you should be.</p><p>&gt;:3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>whoops i lied we have one more chapter before you have to worry</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jaskier was </span>
  <em>
    <span>ecstatic</span>
  </em>
  <span> that the wolf liked his gift, and from then on he kept trying to make other things for him, just little things like scraps of cloth with flowers or leaves woven into them, pieces of paper folded into complicated shapes, snatches of song written just for him. He found, much to his delight, that sometimes the wolf's tail would begin to </span>
  <em>
    <span>wag </span>
  </em>
  <span>if he liked the gift, like the dogs back home with a piece of cheese. Who'd have guessed he would one day come to think of the wolf who'd kidnapped him as cute?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And at night, under cover of dark, he became just a little more daring. He still had trouble moving once he was settled into bed, and still couldn't bring himself to say anything, but he found that if he fell asleep with his arms placed just so, he could hold the wolf as they slept. It was pleasant, though he did find himself wondering more and more what the wolf looked like in his human form. He felt large, and well-muscled, and Jaskier could feel scars on his skin that his fur hid during the daytime, but otherwise he had very little to go on, which was infuriating - particularly when Jaskier realized he was maybe, just maybe, beginning to fall for the wolf. </span>
  <em>
    <span>His </span>
  </em>
  <span>wolf.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He would not, however, ruin the easy companionship they'd managed to build by trying to act on those feelings. The last thing this castle needed was for its only two occupants to be driven apart by, of all things, awkward emotions. So, no, he had no plans to tell the wolf, thank you very much. He only hoped his resolve would hold out - who knew how long they'd be kept here together? In fact, how long had they been here so far? He asked the wolf, once, and was startled by the reply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A little over a year.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The wolf, truth be told, knew exactly how long they'd been here: just under a year from the day he'd returned Jaskier to the castle after his brief trip home. Just under a month from freedom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You see, the terms of the wolf's curse were simple: if he spent a year with one person, in their bed, sharing their company - he was free. But if they looked upon his face, his true face, during that year, he belonged to the queen of the Huldra forever. He neither knew nor cared why the queen had chosen now to give him an opportunity to be free of the curse, he was just glad to be here with Jaskier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The curse's timeframe had reset when he'd taken Jaskier home, as they had spent that night apart, but they were coming up close to a year since then and the wolf felt anticipation thrumming under his skin each day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"A year? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Really</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Goodness, that's… Oh. Nati - Natalia, I mean, my sister - she was pregnant when I went to… to visit. I wonder if- Ah, well. No use dwelling on what I'll never know." Jaskier shrugged, but that sad grey light the wolf knew all too well was beginning to cloud his eyes. The wolf wanted, desperately, to tell Jaskier that if he could only wait another month, they'd be free, and they could go back to his village together if he wanted. But, as is also standard with curses of this nature, there was very little he was actually allowed to say about the curse. "Maybe you could… No, never mind, too risky." The wolf cocked his head, nosing at Jaskier's hand, urging him to continue. "Well, I know </span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm</span>
  </em>
  <span> not allowed to look into the mirror. But… could you look, and just tell me if everyone's alright? Or is that too dangerous? I don't want you risking yourself for me again, really, I just don't know what exactly the rules are and-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I can do it,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the wolf answered, cutting his rambling short. He still had to check in on the princess Yennefer every morning, he didn't see why this should be any different. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Now?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you certain? I, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>don't want you to be punished again because of me."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>My choices. My fault.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The wolf didn't have the energy for as many words as he'd like, but he nosed against Jaskier again, hoping the younger man understood what he meant. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This should be safe.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Promise?" The wolf nodded, and Jaskier ran his fingers through his thick, white fur, holding him close. "Please. I mean- thank you. Both. Both of those." The wolf snorted a small laugh, disentangling himself from Jaskier's arms and heading to the mirror room, checking to make sure Jaskier wasn't following. He seemed adamant about not wanting to risk putting the wolf in harm's way, though, and sat still on the hearth, hugging his knees to his chest, giving the wolf a sad smile as he waited.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wolf opened the door and touched a paw to the glass, checking on Yennefer out of habit before checking on each of Jaskier's family members. He knew their names well, now, from all of Jaskier's stories, and he was happy to see what looked like Natalia and her husband with a new infant, a boy. Aleksander, it seemed, was courting a lady he'd met in the city, and Aurelia appeared to have met a lovely young woman she was seeing. Katarzyna's eldest two, the boys, were taking turns showing their sister a game while Cecylia watched, not yet quite able to grasp the rules but very interested in the movements of the older kids.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier's mother, though, appeared to be gravely ill, and his father was nowhere to be seen. Something in the wolf's heart broke at the prospect of telling Jaskier, but he knew he owed him as much honesty as he was able to give. Quietly, he shut the door and padded back out to the main room, settling down beside Jaskier, who lowered his knees so the wolf could lay his head in his lap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"So? How is everyone?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Good, mostly. Kids healthy. Family happy. But your parents…</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jaskier's breath hitched, and the wolf whined low in his throat, wishing he had more words today. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mom sick. Dad gone. Jaskier… Sorry. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jaskier's hand moved absently, scratching behind his ears, and the wolf didn't want to stop him by looking up. That meant, however, he didn't realize that Jaskier was crying until he felt tears splash on his fur. He was up in an instant, nosing at Jaskier's jaw and face, sitting on his legs. Jaskier wrapped his arms around the wolf's shoulders, digging his fingers into the scruff of his neck and burying his face in thick, warm fur, heaving sobs against the wolf's chest. The wolf did his best to be comforting, resting his chin on top of Jaskier's head and placing his paws protectively on either side of his hips, but otherwise he was at a loss. He didn't know how to help.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Jaskier's sobs faded into hiccups and shuddering breaths, though he still clung tight to the wolf until the lights were nearly out. He got up, keeping a hand on the wolf's side to steady himself as he walked shakily to their room, getting ready for bed and laying down in pitch darkness. The wolf could see him, just barely, curled in on himself, and made a rash decision he hoped he wouldn't regret. As soon as he was transformed, and wearing the shirt Jaskier had made him, he laid down and pulled Jaskier into his arms, curling around him as if he could protect him from all the things that made him hurt. He felt Jaskier's surprised gasp against his chest, and then slowly, steadily, felt him relax into sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were so close to lifting the curse, and being able to do this wherever and whenever they pleased, without having to worry about magicked lights or transformations.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were so close.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i promise this ends well</p><p>(also i'm not sure if this chapter makes jaskier a furry. it might)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Days before the curse would be lifted, Jaskier and the wolf were closer than they'd ever been. While they didn't typically sleep in a close embrace, they did make a point of falling asleep with some point of intentional contact - back to back, forehead to chest, or maybe holding hands. The wolf was more animated, and though he longed to be able to tell Jaskier why, Jaskier didn't seem to question it. He did throw his head back and roar with laughter, though, when he got the wolf to howl along with a song, or wag over some particularly cute gift or gesture. The wolf had also taken to going off to the library, picking a book off the shelves, and bringing it to Jaskier to read aloud to him. The genres and topics varied wildly, and Jaskier wasn't entirely certain there was really a pattern to the books chosen, but he was happy enough to read while the wolf dozed in his lap or on his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything was going as well as could be expected, all things considered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was too good to last.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier had been getting more curious, lately, what his nighttime companion looked like. He'd tried to ask the wolf once, but the wolf only seemed distressed by the question. Perhaps, Jaskier had mused to himself, he could no longer recall his own face. That would be unsettling, certainly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He still had a stub left of his candle, though, and one night he couldn't sleep, and his mind wandered to his bag. It took a great deal of effort to get up, but he managed it, and once he was up he found himself free to move about as normal. He dug through his bag, pulling out the short bit of candle remaining and a lighter, carefully lighting the candle. He leaned over the wolf and gasped softly - the man who lay in his bed was the most beautiful Jaskier had ever laid eyes on, with broad shoulders, a stubbled jaw, and gleaming hair the same stark white as his fur. He reached out a hand, reckless, stupid, to touch the man's face, and as he shifted his weight, a drop of wax fell from the candle onto the man's chest. Time, for an instant, seemed to slow as Jaskier saw amber eyes open wide, shimmering like gold in the candlelight. He felt strong hands clutching at his arms, heard a voice he almost knew calling out-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then it was gone. All of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier was alone, in the snow, with only his cloak, his pack, his blanket, and the shirt he'd woven for his wolf, still stained with wax. The wolf, the castle, the mountain, everything was </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone</span>
  </em>
  <span>, as if it had never been. The sky above was still dark, dotted with stars, and Jaskier shivered in the chill night air, trying to decide where to go from here. What had the wolf said? Jaskier tried to remember, tried to make sense of the words he'd heard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Jaskier! Come, find me, find the place that lies east of the sun and west of the moon!"</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>East of the sun and west of the moon? What did that even mean? He sighed and put on the shirt and his cloak, both to keep out the chill and to cut down on what he needed to carry. He needed to pick a direction to go - if he stayed standing here, he'd freeze to death trying to puzzle out the wolf's words. North seemed as good a good direction to start with as any other, and it was the easiest to find. Scanning the night sky, he found the Polestar and followed it, hoping beyond hope that he could figure out where he needed to go.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>haha title drop</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this one's a little short, but it has some more worldbuilding stuff and more of geralt's inner thoughts!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The wolf woke with a start as something hot and burning fell on him, onto his shirt, scalding through the fabric. He opened his eyes wide, had only a second to process what he saw - Jaskier, standing over him, face bathed in candlelight. Had only a second to cry out, reach for him, and then he was gone.</p><p> </p><p>In the blink of an eye, the wolf was far, far away, and in that moment he knew he would never see Jaskier again, never hear his voice or see his smile. His heart broke, and then froze in its pieces as he heard the gravelly laughter of a Huldra - the queen, <em> his </em>queen now. Now and forevermore.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, my pet, it looks like your companion-to-be was just a bit too curious for his own good. Such a shame. But, oh, what a good groom you'll be my dearest."</p><p> </p><p>Groom? The wolf almost asked, but thought better of it, remembering he was not to speak to his queen unless directly asked to do so. She seemed to read the question on his mind anyway, though, answering it in a voice dripping with cruel humor.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, yes, groom. I am too old to keep being queen much longer, you see, but I cannot crown our new queen until she has her king, can I?" The wolf shivered, vague memories of a fragile-looking man locked away in a tower coming to the surface of his mind. Probably, he realized, the queen's husband.</p><p> </p><p>"Yennefer is almost ready to take the throne, and you will join her and stay by her side. You will be the keeper of her heart, and it must be kept safe." The wolf looked back at her with a start, confusion written all over his face. "You see, my pet, the queen of the Huldra must be chosen from amongst the humans, each queen must go on a journey to find her successor. Then she molds her, remakes her, and at the end of it all she must become a Huldra herself - the queen can't <em> remain </em>a human."</p><p> </p><p>The wolf suddenly remembered something he'd read, back when he was a human, meant to be the queen's companion. Becoming a Huldra was a dangerous endeavor, for to do so, the Huldra-to-be must give their heart, freely and willingly, to one they trust implicitly to care for it. And "giving their heart" was <em> very </em> literal - though she wore her hair long and loose to cover it, at some angles, you could see the hole in the queen's back where her heart was carved out, presumably locked up somewhere with her king.</p><p> </p><p>"I will lift the Lupine enchantment so we can properly prepare you for kinghood, but your name we will keep until the ceremony is held. You can't very well marry without a name, but we don't want to risk you running off if you think you're free. Understood?" The wolf nodded, and felt a surge of icy cold magic through his body that left his teeth chattering and his fingertips numb. But he was no longer a wolf - not now, not come dawn, not ever again so long as he behaved.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We do need to call you something though. Perhaps… Wolf?" The man who was no longer a wolf (but wasn't anything else yet, either) grimaced, and the queen gave a cold, quiet laugh. "No, you don't care for that one, do you? For now at least, we'll just call you Rivian."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Rivian?" He spoke without thinking, then immediately straightened in fear. The queen had always hated when he spoke out of turn, though today she seemed to be in a peculiar mood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's the country we found you in, though I doubt it's where you're from. Regardless of its meaning, it makes a good enough placeholder. Now, Rivian, you are excused. I shall see you in the morning, when we begin the preparations." She gestured with her hand and the man - Rivian - left the room. He wasn't entirely certain where to go, but a helpful servant led him to what must have been his quarters. He couldn't help noticing she, too, was human, and wondered just how many humans there were within the castle walls.</span>
</p><p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>next chapter is pretty long and i'm out of town for a bit visiting family this week, so it might be a little while before the next chapter's actually up, but i promise it won't be several months this time 😅</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jaskier headed further north until he had to stop, had to rest. Dimly, he recalled a story he'd always loved as a child, one of the tales of the Huldra. The story said they lived in a palace of ice far, far to the north - east of the sun, and west of the moon, in a place no human could ever reach. Something about that phrase had always captured his imagination, and now it became a single point in his mind to focus on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>East of the sun, west of the moon. If he could just find his way there, maybe, </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span> he could get his wolf back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He built two short walls of snow to protect him from the wind and laid down to rest. Not exactly the best way to do it, but he was rather short on supplies with which to build a proper shelter. He was also, he knew, short on food. Very short. He had a tin of candies Alek had bought him in Oxenfurt, and that was about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wrapped his cloak tighter around himself and drifted into an uneasy sleep, shivering the whole time, and dreaming of amber eyes, full of fear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He woke with a start to find someone prodding him with a stick, peering at him as if he were a particularly interesting bug.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Who are you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Uh. My name is Julian. Why are you jabbing me with a- could you please stop that?" The poking stopped, and he pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Who are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>? I didn't think anyone lived this far north." The stranger was tall, with hair that was greying at the temples and deep wrinkles, though nearly half his face was hidden by his hood and a pair of dark-lensed glasses.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We don't live here, we hunt here. My name is Dmitri. Where are you from?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Lettenhove? It's a small village, down in Kerack. South of here, definitely, though er… I'm not sure if it's southwest or southeast. To be honest, I don't really know where exactly we are right now."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Kaedwen. The Gwenllech Valley, to be more specific. I don't know where Kerack is, but your accent sounds more east than west."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Good to know. You mentioned you were hunting - what do you hunt here?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Seals, mostly. Sometimes other things, but seals are the most useful. Speaking of, you're going to freeze to death if you keep wearing those. They'll get damp, and the water will take all your heat. How did you get here so underprepared?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That is a very long story, and I'm not entirely certain on some of the details myself. Do you have any more weather-appropriate clothes I could have, perhaps? I've got a feeling I'll have to go further north than this to get where I need to be."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Where's that?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, that's the rub of it I suppose; I don't actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>know.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I'm supposed to go somewhere east of the sun and west of the moon, but quite frankly I have no bloody clue what that actually means. My gut instinct says north, though."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, that is dangerous territory indeed. That's where the castle of the queen of the huldrefolk is hidden - and she doesn't take kindly to visitors."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, tough luck for her. Someone I lo- Someone I care about has been taken there, and I need to get him back. What- why are you laughing?" Jaskier's brow creased with consternation and, indeed, Dmitri had begun a deep, full-bellied laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You've got a fire in you, young Julian! Don't know if you'll make it to the castle, but I'll be damned if I let you go out there without at least trying to help. Come with me, we'll see what we can find you." He held out his hand, hauling Jaskier to his feet and patting the snow from his back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They walked a little ways to a small camp, just a few tents set up with some communal spaces between. Jaskier hung back, nervous, but Dmitri gestured for him to keep coming, so he did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You should meet my daughter Hanna, she is about your age. She knows a lot about the tales of the Huldra, maybe she can help you with directions while I get you supplies."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"O-oh. Yeah, okay." Jaskier continued with him to one of the larger tents, and inside was a woman who indeed seemed to be around his age, poring over a book. She looked up and gave him a little wave, smiling. He sat on the ground just inside the tent, worrying at his lower lip before deciding he may as well just ask. "I need to go east of the sun and west of the moon. Can you help me?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes widened, polite-but-friendly demeanor slipping away, replaced by a look of cautious intrigue. "Why?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well… Do you want the short story, the long story, or the really long story?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She laughed, eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Give me the long version, but maybe not the really long one."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he did. He told her the story, starting from the wolf taking him from his home, telling her about the castle and its enchantments, the wolf and his curse, the mirror and the punishment, the mistake and the disappearance. He did not mention his rather tangled feelings toward the wolf, but he got a sense that she knew regardless.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yes, the queen of the huldrefolk has him, I can almost guarantee that. Her palace does, indeed, lie east of the sun and west of the moon-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"But what does that </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Jaskier was getting tired of non-answers; he needed help, and he needed it now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It </span>
  <em>
    <span>means,</span>
  </em>
  <span> had you let me finish my sentence, that her palace is directly at the northern pole of the planet. But the area is rife with storms - both magic and mundane. You'd never make it there in one piece."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I have to at least try. I owe him that much." Flashes of bloodied fur and red, angry wounds surfaced in his mind, and he shook his head quickly to rid himself of the memories. "There has to be some way to get there, or else no one would know it exists. Please, I can't… I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I just left him there." His voice grew quiet, breaking a little as he thought of the days he'd spent talking to the wolf, the nights touching his arm or holding his hand as they slept. Hanna's expression softened, and she nodded resolutely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Let me see what I can find."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Hanna looked through her books, flipping pages and scribbling notes and comparing tales, Dmitri came back with a container of hot broth and some proper winter clothes. A sealskin coat and boots, and leggings made from polar bear hide, the fur turned inward to trap heat. Jaskier drank the broth eagerly, immensely grateful as the warmth spread from his core into his chilled limbs and stiff fingers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Aha!" Hanna cried in triumph, causing Jaskier to choke a little on the last of his broth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What- what did you- you find?" His sentence was broken up by coughs as he tried to expel hot soup from his windpipe, and Dmitri thumped him hard on the back, making him cough again. Hanna ignored his struggles, though, pointing excitedly to a passage of a book.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Look! Okay, this describes the method by which the Huldra take the servants for the palace - who are all humans. Twice a year, on each solstice, a passage opens and the servants are herded through. The solstice is only a few days away, so you'll have to hurry, but if you can slip into that group you should be able to make it inside."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Brilliant! Now, how do I get to that passage?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, finding it shouldn't be much of a problem. Since every human who's been to the castle has passed through that tunnel, even though very few have escaped the troll queen's palace, those who have escaped and survived to tell their story have given us a pretty good estimate of its location. Getting there, however, is going to be… difficult."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Difficult how?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Difficult like the way there is littered with frozen corpses."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ah." Jaskier's face twisted into a grim frown as he tried to think what to do. "Any ideas?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You'll need supplies. I don't know if what we can give you will be enough, but it'll be better than whatever you have now I'm certain." Jaskier looked at his pack - filled with lovely, useless things - and couldn't help but agree. "You'll need food, and a scarf, and we'll have to outfit your boots." Jaskier nodded along, as if he understood any of what she was saying. Dmitri seemed to realize he was quickly losing focus, and offered to go gather the things they needed while Hanna helped Jaskier plan his journey.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dmitri returned with wrapped bundles of dried meat and nuts, a thick woolen scarf and sealskin gloves and two outer soles for his boots, each of which bore spikes for digging into the slick ice closer to the castle. They insisted he stay the night in their camp, rest before he left. The next day, as the sun rose, they walked with him as far as the frozen-over sea surrounding the magicked lands of the Huldra.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>me: i promise this chapter won't take several months<br/>me, several months later: .......well. that was a lie.</p><p>sorry folks 😅</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>a short, sweet chapter to make up for the lack of updates for so long - really sorry again for how long each chapter is taking, life is kinda brutal these days :/</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rivian was woken early in the morning, as he had been yesterday and the day before, by a servant bearing a tray of food and a mug of something that steamed in the icy air. The food was good, but the drink made him feel tired and slow. He figured he must still be tired from the events of yesterday. Dimly, he remembered a hand reaching for his in the dark, but shook his head to rid himself of the thought and followed the servant to the Queen's chambers, where he was to report each morning to learn what his day would entail. Today, it seemed, was dress and etiquette. He didn't register much of what was said to him, but he seemed to be performing by rote well enough to please the Queen and her advisors. At night, he was taken back to his room, and once more given a meal and a mug of the drink that made him slow and sleepy, and he drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On his fourth day in the castle, he was brought not to the Queen's chambers, but somewhere else, in another wing of the castle. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he questioned it, but that voice became fainter and soon had all but died out entirely. Doing what he was told just made everything so much </span>
  <em>
    <span>simpler</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The servant opened the door, and the room he saw seemed vaguely familiar. A woman with long, dark hair sat before a vanity, back towards Rivian. She, too, seemed familiar, but the memory was just out of reach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"My Lady," the servant murmured before stepping away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman turned, and Rivian's gaze met an absolutely stunning pair of deep violet eyes. His breath caught in his chest, and in the silence she stood and approached him, seeming almost to glide along the floor in her billowing black dress.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She came close, pressing a hand to his chest. "So," she said, her voice deep and rich. "You're to be my king, then?" She gave him an considering look, shrugging and turning away as she gave him her appraisal. "I suppose you'll do."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stood awkwardly, unsure what to do or say, but was saved a moment later by a new entry to the room. A troll, this time, so not a servant - maybe one of the Queen's instructors for him?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another moment, and his unspoken question was answered as the troll began to speak to them both in the gravelly tones common across the castle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You two are to practice the marriage ceremony, to ensure you are able to complete it the day you are wed."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The troll attendant walked them through a number of ceremonies, none of which Rivian really remembered, but by the end of the day it seemed his body could do it by rote.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He went to bed that night feeling oddly dissatisfied, though he couldn't place why.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>More tags/characters will be added as they appear in the story, and I'll update the rating if needed as well. Let me know what you think!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>